


A Tracery of Scarlet

by PeculiarlyEmpty



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeculiarlyEmpty/pseuds/PeculiarlyEmpty
Summary: An angel in gray changes everything for the children of Ericson Academy.Set in a world more in line with first few seasons, Clementine is attuned to sacrifice and loss.  She comes from the north hoping for a break from the bloodshed but might just find something else in the blond haired war leader who’s got a quick smile and a quicker blade.Meanwhile the raider threat from the south grows, threatening to subsume everything they’ve built.
Relationships: AJ | Alvin Jr. & Clementine (Walking Dead), Clementine & Lee Everett, Clementine/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running), Minerva/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	1. Out of the black

**Author's Note:**

> Not all who are lost will come home...
> 
> (I’ll edit it soon, I’ve noticed a lot of errors that I’ll get back and fix.)

Clementine remembered fractious moments among the chaos; little slices where the misery of life was still tentatively held at bay by a kind heart not yet atrophied, or an accumulation of good luck. Not once did it last and each time it got easier for her to return to that numbed state she fell into; that road mentality they'd called it once, the weighty burden of the sins of the world hanging around you.

She didn’t mention this to AJ, because after all the emptiness was contagious if past experiences served – and with Clem, it almost always did.- She wouldn't become like Jane. She'd give him as much of a childhood as possible and no matter the cost she would protect that lovable little bastard.

The low sound of wind through barren branches and the gentle call of some bird she didn’t know heralded the night to come. AJ followed in her wake, ever the dutiful shadow, ever attentive to her ways – he was such a good boy. The heels of her boots were worn and her back ached although she hardly noticed: a life on the road had taken its toll and she was as hardened to discomfort as the most career badass of the old world. Jane had once jokingly told her that a walker would never take a bite out of her – she was nothing but sinew after all; no meat whatsoever.

Worn down to the bone.

In between the increasingly dense swamp country, little bursts of civilization came here and there along the road. A trailer park filled with skeletons, a township whose church still held a full communion of walkers. Little snippets of horror among the monotony, every step a lesson for AJ, those big, brown eyes always watching.

She crunched onward, the cracked asphalt of the road giving way to the erosion of time and nature’s indomitable will in places. She heard the bright voice behind her, quiet as she’d taught him: “We can’t drink the river water right?” The bridge they were walking over was cracked and nearly gutted, the ‘river’ beneath little more than a creek and wouldn’t wet you past your mid calf.

“’Cause little buddy, it’ll make you sick if you don’t boil it.” Truth is she had no idea why, this was just something she’d picked up while staying in the motor in all those years back. Still, it held true, she remembered vomiting her guts out with Omid that one time; the lesson sticking after that pertinent point.

“.. And fires are dangerous,” his voice wasn’t dejected, simply repeating what she’d taught him.

“Yessir, glad to see you’re listening. Now what did I say about idle chit chat?” Her eyes never left the surrounding forests, ears only half listening to him. He laughed that bright, little laugh; “There’s no walkers here Clem,” demonstrating his point, he tossed a rock into the corroded metal of a car. The clang wasn’t deafening, but it certainly carried over the desolate stretch of roadway. Clementine didn’t remonstrate him, the boy had an almost uncanny sense for the dead. No moaning accompanied the return of silence and she chuckled. “You know I have no idea how you do that.”

He squirmed slightly beneath her questioning gaze as she turned to him. He twisted his hands in and around each other before answering: “Truth Clem, I really don’t. Usually I dont’t know fer sure so I don’t say anything.” She didn’t question him. She’d been there since the day of his birth after all, never a day without the naked threat the dead imposed on the unwary or the reckless.

It had certainly changed her.

“Still, AJ, what did I say about letting your guard down?” Another lesson, another brutally impressed piece of experience from her collection. He lit up at the sound of something he knew,

“Never, ever, ever, not even if you’re 1000% sure it’s safe should you let down your guard.” The conviction in his little voice made the corner of her mouth twitch in a faint smile. She was certain he only very loosely grasped the idea behind percentages anyway, but the core concept was there. “Even if anyone you’re with thinks it’s safe; even if you--” here he poked her in the side, eliciting a strangled laugh from her, “think it’s safe, I should still be careful.” He grinned up at her, gap tooth where he’d knocked one out two months before giving him an impish air.

“Alright my little soldier,” Clem ruffled his hair affectionately; she really loved the goofy little kid, and on those gray nights where the universe seemed to swallow her, the sight of him sound asleep always brought her back. “Let’s find somewhere to stay the night, alright buddy? Should be a town here another mile or so.”

“Alright!” Nothing seemed to put a damper in his mood, that one. Clem walked on alone, eyes ever vigilant even if her thoughts were elsewhere.

Her thoughts were far away indeed.

The town they approached was a little, no name affair with probably less than ten thousand people living there Before. The white painted houses bespoke an unfamiliarity with anything even approaching the corporate monoliths that Clem remembered from larger cities. Everything here was painted, wooden and spoke of long memories; of family, long nights under a starlit sky with nothing but forest for miles. The people here had deep history and a deeper reason to not leave their town when the Sickness struck; now it seemed they never would.

The buildings here spoke the language of ruin; shattered windows, the odd door caved in, the wrecked cars that sung the song of death and panic. Clem was all too fluent however and she quickly identified that this was old death, nobody had fortified here since the Outbreak. Hopefully this would mean ample supply for her and AJ.

A lucky find indeed.

Crouching in a ditch at the edge of camp, Clem pulled out a cowbell, swathed in cloth from her bag. Carefully unwrapping it she looked to AJ who nodded and then struck one, clear note against the metal bell.

The sound carried throughout the town, a clear, resonate note that seemed to travel through the both of them. She muffled it after a second or two, moving in a half crouch with AJ right at her heels. They moved through bushes to circumvent the road in which they’d arrived, emerging farther in at the edge of the woods. Waiting in silence they both held their breath as the wind moaned through broken windows and fluttered cloth drapes ravaged by the elements.

AJ hissed and a half second later Clem saw it herself: the rustling sigh of death walking, a group of walkers emerging from the gas station half a block ahead. Their moans were a half-hearted thing but it still put Clem’s teeth on edge. A rhythmic thudding arose from another house – its' undead occupants unable to find an exit from their funerary domicile.

Never over focus, always keep your attention wandering, a flitting bird rather than a hawk’s concentration. The old lessons filtered back to Clem, herself having passed them onto AJ in his youthful enthusiasm. The both of them were silent as stones; a pair of mossy protrusions, extensions of the ground beneath them. In the town very little moved, the few visible walkers a shambling, abstraction for the omnipresent danger of living in this empty world.

Finally, standing and stretching the kinks out of her limbs Clem put a hand on AJ’s shoulder, not speaking and communicating in broad gestures. Together they moved towards the place where they’d rung the cowbell, the gathering of walkers having spread out along the road and forest. One by one they maneuvered to eliminate each walker; slowly and with the greatest deliberation. The randomness of the walker’s movements offset by tangled growth of the forest all around.

Finally, after something like thirty minutes had passed no walkers remained on the open street and only Clem and AJ were left standing amongst the fully dead. Now, finally they moved into the confines of the main avenue in this unnamed town in the tangled forests of the South.

Still not speaking they moved into the open doorway of a house that had not been boarded up; old blood from old death nothing more than a brown stain upon the upholstery and carpet. They split up, performing a quiet dance in and around closets, furniture and the kitchen island. Anything canned was taken and put in the open, fabrics piled and bags and potential clothing set aside. They both moved to the rhythm of long practice; the drummed instincts of survival in the most hostile of environments beating a rhythm through their subconscious.

The absolute silence was only broken by AJ when Clem was busy sorting through a pile of looted material. The light tap on her shoulder and child’s whispered voice cutting through the dark clouds of her thoughts. “There’s a locked room with something moving upstairs Clem.” He never raised his voice so when she nodded he simply moved off; they had a system where she’d deal with any single walker they found – it was easier that way.

The upstairs of the house was a drab affair, a carpet outlining the dusty sunlight coming in from the hall window. The hallway was flanked by a door on each side which AJ had already cleared and culminated in a single door at the end, its' door conspicuously left shut. By this time it was nearing evening and the sunlight was orange hued with the colors of sunset. This late in the season they had to carefully ration their sunlight as being out in the darkness without a light was simply inviting Death.

Twelve clicks, a muffled curse and the stamping of a boot preceded the lock on the door parting before her nail file. Jane had always praised them and Clem had time and time again had its reputation justified. Remembering that creaking rope still brought her back to the yawning chasm that waited beyond conscious thought. Clem woke up most nights, the light of dawn a distant, hazy possibility with a little Death on her lips. She thought of it like a cloud, a piece of the darkness that had been with her her whole life poisoning her one day at a time.

Her vision cleared, her senses took on the razor’s edge of a lifetime upon the road. Hand on the doorknob she her the rustling thud of a walker, inexorable champion of decay as it heard her noises. She cursed herself, Careless! There could be any number in that room; Never go alone!’ Instinct expanded and subsumed her self recriminations.

There was work to do.

AJ made his way back upstairs after Clem, wandering, child’s gaze taking in everything and nothing. Even though he knew it was dangerous, he still found it weird to look at the old portraits, their faded, dusty frames a window into that distant, impossible past. Clem had assured him that people lived normally once, that a life without walkers was, in fact the way it was supposed to be.

He didn’t believe her, not entirely.

Though she was his mother and older sister both, some thoughts he kept hidden behind those dark, inquisitive eyes. This world was cursed, along with the people within it. Back at McCarroll, that place of distant memory and blood; AJ remembered faintly someone preaching about the wrath of ‘God’, and how humans had defaced his will (whatever that meant). He just remembered thinking that sounded good and fit with what he saw every day: a blasted, empty shell of a landscape filled with rotting demons of which it was he and Clem’s job to destroy.

AJ focused his thoughts when he crested the stairs looking down to see Clementine stiffen, drawing her knife in a fluid motion. She tugged the door open and AJ watched what happened next. His quick eyes caught the three walkers that were almost upon her and he stifled a cry as he watched Clementine sweep into the room. One fell, blade intricately severing the spine, jaw still clacking. Another tripped its' legs swept from under it and its' ligaments parted before the cold steel of the second blade. The third and final was a child his size, AJ shivered as Clementine didn’t even pause, the brutal slaying muffled by the dusty walls of the house around them.

Silence.

She stood, sheathing knives with a lithe grace that AJ found stunning. No matter how many times he saw her kill the dead, the same thought always came to mind.

Angelic.

“Let’s get the rest of the house it looks like there’s an attic.” Clem’s voice was velvet soft, the very picture of calm. She stood looking down at the corpses for a half second before tugging on the cord that broached a hole in the ceiling, a dusty, muffled darkness beyond. Clem looked back at AJ, nodding then wrapped her knuckle heavily upon the metal ladder, the noise carrying into the attic beyond.

Nothing moved, not even the faintest hint of the dead. The house was finally at peace. They moved up together, finding a stash of canned goods and a box of ammo which Clem used to load AJ and her own pistols. Then, locking doors and setting heavy items against the most obvious spots a walker might enter she took once last glace at the sun drenched street, the orange of sunset now in full bloom. No walkers made themselves apparent and the town was as silent as the deepest sleep. They retired to the attic and raised the ladder; it was time to sleep for the night.

–

In her dreams she could always fly. Caged lightning in her veins, she bore towards the horizon where clouds as black as her memories waited. She bore a rod of flame into the heart of the darkness, uplifted, empowered – this was her purpose. Yet she felt herself failing, felt that iridescent flame fading, the light of a dying sun no longer warm against fevered skin.

She was falling.

–

She woke before the dawn to the dull ache of pain from her arm. For a moment she thought she was bitten and simply felt numb to the idea, an end to the struggle. She remembered the light going out in the eyes of the men she’d killed. A mercy that she needn’t justify to herself yet she always remembered that peace. The calm and utter absence of pain in their glassy, cool gazes. She gazed at her arm and found her own fingernails dug deeply into the flesh there, blood tricking onto the dusty, attic floorboards.

She sighed, wearily accepting the dawn of a new day and set to work.


	2. Leadership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at Ericson has its' ups and downs

–

Feral. That’s the way he’d describe the most of them. Their clothes were torn, they tore into their food with teeth that were chipped and fought over scraps from the old world that took their fancy. Most of them didn’t remember all that much beyond hazy memories of families long gone, their new home taking precedence only because they feared the road more. This was all they had and Marlon was the closest thing they had to a father.

Some days he despised that, yet he’d always wanted to be the responsible one; always the older brother, even if his own family was long dead. In a way he loved these kids, these monstrous little shits of which he had been the only one old enough to have a deep voice when the walkers came. Sure there were older ones, individualists and ones with a glint in their eyes as they sharpened their knives but they knew their place. They knew without him this little community would fracture and explode; a diaspora of violence which none of them could guarantee that they’d come out alive from. So the little detente continued and Marlon kept wedging his door shut at night.

It made him feel better.

The fire wasn’t quite uproarious but it crackled merrily, the pot in the center bubbling and giving off an almost jovial smell. Omar stirred like a man in his element, his whole and complete concentration fixated on the mixing of ingredients. Nearby, Aasim looks up from the ledger – the group’s master record of supplies, weapons and general logistical needs. Aasim catches Marlon’s eye and waves him over, a grim look upon his face.

“What is it?” Marlon keeps his voice low, having learned from long experience that bad news is better not shared.

“We’re running low on storable food, the weather is too warm to properly store salted meat and the traps aren’t returning as much as they have. I told you this last month and it’s the same news today: we’re running low on food and we may need to start rationing.” Aasim held a grim look, Maron held him as his left hand man for a reason, the ruthless pragmatism of the quiet boy surpassing that of any of the others.

“I know, we may need to expand and start sending long patrols into nearby towns.” Marlon had planned for this, acquiring local maps and having scouting parties venture further and further from the school. With the Jack and Kennedy gone, the amount of reliable ‘elders’ was rapidly dwindling and aside from his lieutenant Louis, the rest were of a more unreliable temperament.  
“I’ll talk to you later about possible rationing plans but for now keep up the same level of meals. We’ll need the moral boost for the wet season.” Marlon nodded to ensure he was understood then walked off, the littler ones that played all day scattering before him.

There had been eighty five students at the academy back when, the population was weighted towards the younger kids as the older ones tended to ‘graduate’ into traditional highschools. Come the outbreak, and the following months precisely sixty remained, decreasing by a further ten when walkers took an entire group of children on patrol.

Marlon signaled to Violet, one of the individualists who often led patrols. She represented a loose faction within Ericson that were likely to go along with his ideas as long as they held to their own self interests. He enjoyed the bluntness of the girl, preferring her to lead missions into the surrounding towns. She jumped down from the wall where she sat, idly throwing pieces of masonry at birds nesting in nearby trees. Dusting her hands, the shorter, blond girl walked up to him; “What’s up, chief?”

Marlon replied, “Don’t pass this around just yet, but remember I mentioned deeper patrols? Hunting and foraging isn’t keeping pace with our group here and we’re gonna need a lot more if we’re gonna last the year.” Violet nodded, pondering out loud “So you’re gonna have me lead a group up north? South is still a clusterfuck and west is just more swamps.” He enjoyed the way she predicted his thoughts,

“Exactly, I was thinking run parallel to the interstate, hit some of the littler towns there. Come back in two, three days tops.” He thought for a second, idly fingering his baton stuck into his belt, “Take… Five, maybe six kids tops. I want t’keep it a lighter patrol for obvious reasons.” They both knew every now and then a Raider group came from the swamps to the south. Usually they were half starved as everything down there was looted to shit and were easily dealt with. However, everyone feared the day that the Raiders braved the swamps with more than a couple men with rifles.

Violet nodded to herself, thinking, “When do you want me to leave?”

Marlon thought for a second, weighing prospective times, “Don’t leave tonight, let’s have a get-together when the foraging team comes back. Take them out dawn tomorrow, make the most out of the daytime.”

Violet smirked, “A party eh bossman?” she sketched a mock salute, although there was agreement in her eyes “Roger that oh Captain my Captain.”

Marlon skirted the children playing and worked on finding Louis. Predictably, his lieutenant was whispering sweet nothings into the ear of one of the twins, her eyes bright with amusement. Marlon never understood how Louis managed it, he never understood people as a child and it was only by his authority as Eldest that he still held power. Louis could charm his way into the pants of anyone alive and they’d love him for it. The rocky path that led through the burnt down quarter betrayed his approach and Louis looked up, grinning, “What’s up Marlon?”

The twin, Marlon always mixed up their names raised her eyebrows. Marlon felt a flush creeping up his back but he ignored it, instead opting for bluntness: “We’re throwing a party tonight after the forage comes back. Make sure people know about it then get it all organized, I figured you’d want to help.” Louis grinned in response, arm around the twin – was it Minnie’s?-- shoulders;

“You guessed right man, I’ll get it sorted. Get some rest dude, it’s been a long goddamn week.” Marlon shook his head, finally smiling, “No, I think, I still have rounds to make. You know how close this place is to anarchy.”

He was only half kidding he thought to himself as he turned and walked back towards the main wing of the school.

–

Flames leapt towards the night sky, the shadowed figures of children big and small dancing like maniacs in and around the lit circle. The howling of Marlon’s dog, Rosie joined in with the high voices of children, their faces stained with the juice of berries or painted black as the night’s sky. Marlon sat at the head table with Louis and Aasim; their voices low enough that Violet couldn’t hear. She, herself sat alone except for Minnie, simply watching the merriment from a distance. Two kids fought over a knife, scuffling in the dirt while a couple of their peers cheered them on.

Alcohol was passed around, the last of the rum scavenged three months ago on a run into the Eastern cities. Violet felt the warmth of the drink slide into her gullet and she allowed a short smile to greet her face. Minnie noticed it, “Someone’s in a good mood, what’s got you all smiley today?”

Violet simply hummed, content with the world here for once. She hated being in Ericson most of the time, the throngs of children and varyingly pubescent boys making her nauseous on principle. Patrols were a relief from the tedium, a chance for her to delve into the badlands and find out for herself what remained of this world. “You know I like patrols; well, Marlon has me leading one tomorrow. You want in?” Minnie was an elder so she could choose her duties more or less. That was they way things worked at Ericson.

“Um, we’ll see how much I want to wake up tomorrow morning.” Violet laughed and pressed her lips to Minnie’s, the easy camaraderie a warmth between the two of them. Though she was Louis’s girl, technically, they’d been friends since Violet arrived her at Ericson and that friendship had blossomed into something else, a not-quite partnership with … benefits. Violet smirked to herself, benefits indeed.

At the fireside, one of the kids, a girl no more than nine years old howled, lighting a torch and casting a shower of sparks into the midnight air. Before the absolute vastness of stars overhead it looked like fireflies, a chorus of angels ascending into the night’s sky. Violet leaned back and closed her eyes, ignoring the few insects that buzzed nearby. This was heaven of a sorts; what had the old world been compared to this? Raiders knew to stay away from the swamps and they hardly had people come from up north anymore. The deadlands everybody called them, for nobody who went north ever came back.

For a moment, Violet tried to imagine life if normality had continued; she’d have been in eighth grade by now, looking to ‘graduate’ into a highschool with cliques, gangs, the possibility of adoption. The monotony of other people wore at her like sandpaper and she found herself glad for the apocalypse. Mrs. Henry, their morality teacher used to lecture on biblical passages but Violet never paid any attention. The chapel at Ericson was requisitioned as an ad-hoc school for the younger kids now; lessons on survival replacing algebra and grammar.

She pulled her knife from her belt, the flickering length of steel a blur in the firelight as she swung it around and around, a fan of blades never standing still for an instant. Minnie watched her with some amusement before taking another swig of the rum and standing up. “Well, if we’re to go on patrol tomorrow I’d ideally like to get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” Violet tossed the knife point first into a clump of grass, waving back to Minnie, “See ya!”

More sparks danced on the wind as another log joined the chorus in flame. This was their place. For miles in all directions their patrols made sure walkers and bandits alike stayed well clear, and as such nobody felt scared to walk alone anymore (even if it was strictly against Ericson rules.) This was as close to a family as Violet had ever had and although the vast majority of the little shits consistently got on her nerves, she loved the little bastards.

This was something good and she hoped it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be brutal please, I'd prefer criticism but I'll take anything I can get tbh.


	3. That old feeling

\--

Thunder shook the air, a great wind was rattling the windows outside. The air was as cold as glass just removed from a freezer and clearer by far. The heater in the car struggled to ward off the chill and Jane rubbed hands already numb with the cold. The kid, Clementine was sitting across from her, wrapped in their only blanket while they waited for the storm to break itself apart and the road south to clear.

_Poor girl,_ Jane thought, _she just had to kill the closest thing to family she’s got in this world and here I am in a wrecked car forcing her to think on it._ Jane’s mind was a blank though. She’d been on her own too long, ever the solitary one, months of isolation had broken something within her that would never heal. Any comfort, any solidarity she could maybe once have given died stillborn upon her chill lips, instead letting bygones write themselves in regret upon the air.

_I should’ve just left,_ Jane’s eyes were glassy and she felt an odd surreal feeling take hold. _Kenny was dead and I’m alone with an infant and a twelve year old child._ Once again however, something in Jane absolutely refused to let go. It had taken hold completely after she’d left her sister for the walkers and now it subsumed her thoughts. _I can’t leave them. Not yet._

“Clementine” Jane’s voice was rusty and her lungs felt dry from breathing in the chill air. “We’re gonna be traveling together for a while and I need to make sure you’re as good as I am at staying alive.” The weak grin she offered was not returned, Clementine’s gaze could be that of a walker if not for the cool brown of her irises.

“The others… I know they had their methods but clearly none of that panned out. I know you were on your own before but now it’s for real, no take-backsies.” Jane drew the kid close in and wrapped her thin arms around her and the blanket both. “I need to know you’ve got my back, eh kiddo?” Finally Clem raised her gaze, the naked sincerity there stunning Jane for a second.

“What do you want me to do?”

–

“All we have ever done is keep moving and we never seem to get anywhere” –Christa

\--

Rule One: People will betray you.

Her boots were like heartbeats, the rhythm of their survival beat into the concrete. The road was jagged and overgrown, what few cars had broken down here rusted; scrap metal without anything that would resemble supplies. AJ padded along behind her, the boots he wore weren’t his size but he didn’t complain.

Rule Two: Sound is your death, stay silent, stay watchful.

Her water canteen beat a tattoo into the meat of her leg, its’ jangling muffled by layers of cloth. The heat of the day was oppressive, the swamps to either side of the road emitted a nasty smell but both had long since gotten used to it. The road twisted and turned alongside the river that ran through these parts. The name on Clementine’s map was faded to obscurity so she just called it Town 3.

AJ, grown bored by the constant walking nevertheless doggedly continued in her wake. Amusing himself by making up stories about how he thought the old world had been. He whispered them to himself and would occasionally share them with Clem when they stopped for food or water. He knew to stay quiet on the road. Occasionally a group of birds would alight from deeper in the forest. Clem stopped every time and watched for walkers, their constant presence the reality they lived with.

You could escape walkers and fight them but your best option was to stay beneath their notice.

Rule Three: Never hesitate. A dead man can’t tell his friends where you’re sleeping; a dead walker won’t moan and give away your location.

Clementine developed a tick and she picked at her fingernails while she walked. Little flakes of white fell behind her like some odd trail left to follow. One tore away a piece of the quick and she bit off a curse, sucking on the digit in the hopes of putting aside the pain. This stretch of road crossed a trestle, a lean double lane highway that was cracked and worn beneath the dusty heat of fall. She brushed one hand along the concrete barrier that feel away into the river below.

Clem whistled softly, knocking a rock to fall into the sluggish water below. She heard a spitting noise from behind her and turned, watching AJ try and emulate her whistle. She laughed to herself, a quiet, dusty thing. “Here kid,” Demonstrating with her lips, she showed him how to whistle. Adjusting the muscles in her mouth to change the tone and pitch. AJ watched, his dark brown eyes never leaving her. Suddenly he stopped, turning his head back the way they’d came.

“Wallkers.” She turned with him, the start of the bridge eclipsed by the forms of at least a dozen figures shambling towards them. “Shit.” She tried not to swear around him but this was a special occasion.

“Other side, hustle it buddy.” They moved at a clipped pace; the tread of their shoes clapping against the concrete. AJ said over the sound of heightened breathing, “Clem what if we get trapped?”

“Won’t happen,” Clem hitched her bag once more, “Distance to the ground at the end is only a dozen feet or so, we could easily drop it if we get cornered.”

Clem didn’t know this _per se_ but she hoped fervently that it was true, one hand on the hat on her head to keep it from falling away in the wind.

They closed on the end of the bridge, every step Clem scanned the road for any walkers approaching the concrete divide that demarcated the highway from the bridge. No heads showed themselves but one glance showed the walkers behind them had increased to at least two dozen. AJ glanced back as well, his little face frowning in worry, “Shit.” Clem scoffed,

“Language, AJ; we’re doing fine – see? Nothing there.” Indeed there wasn’t, although she could see walkers down near the river catching their scent. They’d have a right little horde on their hands soon and no mistake.

They finished the bridge at a trot, not stopping to wait for the walkers in pursuit. Instead of taking the overgrown forest trails and risking an ambush, Clem opted to make better time in their run down the road. By this time both her and AJ were breathing heavily and they were going to need someplace to rest and hide for a couple hours.

The town came out of horizon like a bolt from the blue. They’d seen traintracks to their right through the trees, but they stumbled through a clearing and the road lead directly into a railway station that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Vines and over growth covered everything like a second skin; the buildings one tangled mess of greenery. The hidden nature of the place belied its’ size and Clem looked around briefly before whispering to AJ: “We’ll barricade here for the night; don’t make _any_ noise, understood?” He nodded, eyes wandering to and fro like some bird.

Clem crept in on feet soft as moss and as light as the wind. With AJ beside her they made they way past a couple dozen feet of marooned railcars, their doors closed and ominously silent. Clem had her pistol stowed in her holster, a final gift from a dead friend; her blades were in her hands, raised to chest height. In the distance over the walls of mossy steel to either side, the low moan of the walkers was getting closer.

They needed shelter and they needed it now. They had food for several days even without rationing; more than anything however they needed to wait out this horde and let them scatter again. Clem approached the rickety stairs that led to the station housing, the door was thick and the walls seemed sturdy. “Right” she hissed to AJ, her voice almost indistinguishable from the breeze, “We’ll hold up here; stay on my back AJ and _no noise._ ”

The door was locked but a side window, elevated half a dozen feet off the ground was lacking bars. They crept in, Clem hauling AJ up beside her before dropping three feet to the wooden floor of the building. The inside was lit a burnt orange by the setting rays of the sun; their daylight was running out.

Rapidly Clem surveyed the window, one large room with three doors leading off. The front door was secured and barred and wouldn’t be a problem. Words emblazoned themselves in her mind the color of autumn fire:

**Identify the exits.**

One, the window behind her, still open but rapidly seeming like a bad idea. Two, the door; extensive work needed to unbar it, unlikely. She moved forward at a half crouch, turning on her heel at the sound of low snarls from her left.

Two walkers lay belted to a bench, their forms writhing against their bonds even though they couldn’t see her. Clem quickly dispatched them, one knife through the base of the skull each, their movements ceasing. The rest of the room was clear absent the doors, and Clem gestured AJ to move up and check the one on the left. A supply closet filled with ropes and pulleys greeted them and a bathroom behind the middle door.

The final door Clem cracked open, edging herself into the room blades first. It was empty but the windows were open which she hastily checked, trying to lower them slowly in case the wood creaked. Finally, when the last window lay closed and the only light seeped in through cracks in the paneling did she relax, sinking to her haunches as the lightning of combat gave way to weariness.

They were safe.

–

The group jogged through the twilight, the growing clouds of the horizon ominous in what they promised. Violet was second behind the scout, Willy, a younger member and a ghost in the wilderness behind a mane of pale hair. Walkers roamed on either side but none of them stopped to eliminate them unless they turned and noticed their presence. These were their woods and the focus was speed over stealth.

Willie hissed and the group slowed, the trail up ahead of them widening into a road previously cut for dirtbikes. Violet glanced ahead then motioned them forward,

“We’ve gotta make the train station before night-fall and there’s rain on the horizon. Willy, I want you there first checking it out in case we’ve got dead or anything else lurking on our turf. We’ll make our way around the back and we can sleep easy there tonight, more importantly sleep _dry._ ”

There was a low chuckle among the other two younger scouts and even Minnie cracked a smile. A Louisiana rainstorm was nothing you wanted to get caught in come nightfall. Willy nodded once then took off at a sprint, little legs pumping as he disappeared into the groves.

They were close.

–

Clementine breathed easily, he fingers nimbly working the knife against a lump of wood she’d found on the ground. She didn’t know yet what shape it would take but the rhythm of it soothed her, pushing all thought away until only the knife and her remained.

AJ, ever the student was searching drawers and the lone desk for supplies. He created a small pile of usable objects, operating by the dim light of a pen-flashlight they saved for night-time. The wind outside was howling and it became clear that beyond the walkers, a real storm was brewing and Clem was doubly glad they’d found the haven among the storm.

Though there was a bed inside, it looked like it hadn’t been slept in for some time. The few supplies there let them avoid dipping into their store of food but there had been no water to speak of. Clementine hit a knot in the wood, and a large chunk of the wood fell to the ground. She looked at it sharply, wondering what animal this would become. She only seemed able to carve animals these days, long hours spent on the road allowing for ample time to practice.

She heard AJ draw in breath from surprise and froze, knife half way through a shaving of wood pulp. He was looking at the floor underneath the bedding in surprise, “Clem,” he said in a whisper, “there’s something beneath here!” Clementine rose in a half crouch, eyes fixated on the trapdoor – for it _was_ a door set into the wood of the floor.

Delicately she put her ear to the wood; she held her breath as she focused on nothing but the sounds around her. Nothing, not a whisper not a single hint that there were walkers beneath. Motioning to AJ to lead with his light, she gripped the iron ring and raised the door in one smooth motion.

Darkness awaited her, the narrow circle illuminated by AJ’s light showing… food!

“Holy shit AJ, we’ve struck gold.” She didn’t believe in luck, not for a second. While AJ searched the passage, she double checked the windows, making damn sure nothing knew they were in there. As soon as AJ came back up with a tin of bottled water, the odd, plastic shape something she was unfamiliar with after all this time. It was only when a taste showed it to be clean and free of contamination that she allowed herself a smile;

They’d be okay.

–

Violet emerged from the trees, the sky black as pitch overhead. Only the thinnest thread of light stabbed down from the corpse of sunset above and illuminated the walker before her. A twist and a flick and it was done, the creature falling to its’ final resting place.

Behind her Minnie rested her hand on her shoulder; the warmth from her flesh leaving a trail of pinpricks down her spine. They crouched at the edge of the forest, the railway straight ahead. Willy, his face ghostly beneath the moonlight approached on feet so small it looked like he floated across the forest floor.

He crouched before Violet, the other scouts forming a perimeter, “There’s a couple in there, outlanders, by the look of it. Didn’t get too close, but I know there’s only two. Looks like they found our stash.” Violet cursed the way her mother had taught her,

Those supplies were a way-station Marlon had set up with the scout crews. No one was supposed to know about this place, _what were they doing here?_

“We need to surprise them, don’ wanna run into-a wall o’ guns now. _”_ The second scout, a boy by the name of Martin said. Violet nodded her agreement, drawing her blade from her pocket and keeping her other on the butt of her pistol.

Willy looked alarmed, “No, wait, Violet, shit – there’s walkers all over the northern lot. Looks like the beginnings of a horde.” Violet cursed in what was steadily becoming a familiar way,

“Alright, shit we do this the quiet way. Willy can you get in the back window? If we make some noise around front? No, better yet I’ll go with you as backup. Minnie, you and Martin make like you’re opening the front door – don’t be quiet about it.”

Nods all around, Violet nodded herself in what she thought was a leaderly manner.

It was on.

–

Clem took a sip of the water, her knife carving a groove into the wood in her hands. Outside, the first drops of rain were starting to come down; the noise of their pattering lulling her into a false sense of security. AJ was in the other room, keeping a silent watch like he always did. The tiny stove at her feet emitted a smidgen of warmth and lit the room around her the color of bronze.

Her mind kept going back, running itself along all the faces of the people she’d left behind like the tongue probing for a tooth that wasn’t there. Betrayal, deceit, lies, murder. Clem had beaten it all, she was _hard_ now and she had AJ whom she’d _die_ protecting if need be. The dark storm mirrored the one in her thoughts; rolling in off a horizon bereft of sunlight.

Her knifework grew violent, large chunks flinging into the air like they’d offended her somehow. She gripped the blade and froze for a moment, pain ripping up from her thumb. The low pattering of blood hypnotized her, the gash in her digit oozing the red color of failure down her hand. She just sat and watched herself bleed for a moment, the pain a dim memory of times long gone.

The silver light of the blade captivated her, its pristine beauty contrasting the dusky color of her flesh. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she was interrupted by AJ’s panicked face, the brown skin almost pale in the dull, twilight. “There’s somebody out there!”

She was up, pain forgotten and a knife in each hand. The sounds from the front room reached her then and she froze _what were they doing?_

Walkers didn’t mess with locks.

She grabbed AJ’s shoulder, drawing him backwards into the back room. She was about to hide them beneath the floorboards when she heard the faintest of noises behind her – _Someone was in the room; it was a trap!_

–


	4. Out of the Frying Pan..

Willy was through the window first, knife gripped tightly between his yellowed teeth. Violet climbed in after him, her sleeve getting caught briefly on a spar that stuck out from the wooden sill. There was a scuffle, and harsh whispers from the room beyond; somewhere deeper in a door slammed open. Violet cursed to herself, her ow n blade a harsh reminder against her fevered skin.

She dropped in.

The back of her head hit something. Hard. Blurry stars danced in and about her vision, her knees giving way. Someone –Willy?-- gripped her by her hair and locked a forearm that felt like steel around her neck.

“AJ, get the kid; fucking get a knife to him, hurry.” The voice was female, young and unfamiliar. Violet slowly came to herself in time to recognize the cold steel of a gun barrel jammed painfully into her temple. The hot breath of her attacker sending a trail of gooseflesh up and around her body as it rasped harsh against her neck. She smelled like leather and cold iron this one; the scent of unwashed flesh masked by dirt and the dust of the road. Some odd, flowery scent behind it all that Violet couldn’t place… 

Suddenly another voice;  Minnie’s,  flat and harsh , “Drop her or you’re dead.” 

  
Violet’s eyes swam into focus: Willy was on the ground and a kid no older than Tennessee had his legs locked around his neck and a long knife at his throat.  Minnie was at the door with Martin and the  other  girl, Jess. 

T he other girl’s voice was  cold as death, coming from right behind Violet’s ear : “I can kill at least two of you as well as her before you get me. Then you’ll have the walkers to deal with.  AJ come here. ” The kid jumped up, keeping the knife  _ very _ close to Willy’s throat.  _ Nice pair these ones _ thought Violet. 

“Stay the _fuck_ where you are and don’t make a move or your girlfriend’s dead.” Fury now; Fury at being caught unawares. This girl was terrifying. 

It was only then that Violet noticed the blade held in the other hand that was locking her neck in a vice. _Jesus, this is a standoff for sure – I wonder if I have my knife?_ But it was lost to her, a dull gleam in the shadow’s cast by the room’s only illumination. 

M innie again, “If you hurt her I’ll.. I’ll fucking kill you, you hear?”  Minnie was mad now too Violet realized,  _ shit bad timing. _

They held that position for a beat. Neither side moving as the standoff continued. Finally the girl spoke: “AJ leave the kid and grab our bags, I’ll cover you.” Amazingly the six year old complied; moving as if they’d practiced exactly this over and over again. 

“Now,” The girl’s voice had an edge to it now, no longer that tone promising death and more. “Me and Alvin here, we’re gonna leave. He’s gonna pack our bags and we’re gonna climb right on out that window behind me. If any of your friends are out there waiting I’ll go down shooting and you can try your luck against my aim.” Flat once more, lifeless. Violet breathed deeply, the knife against her neck flexing and almost cutting the skin. 

“If AJ tells me it’s alright I’ll let her--” she tapped the barrel against Violet’s scalp, “go and we never have to see each other again.” There was a beat, “Deal?” 

Minnie ground her teeth. A bead of water made it’s way down the nape of Violet’s neck and onto her back. She squirmed lightly in the other girl’s grip but stopped at the cold press of steel. “ Fuck! ”  Minne was angry, Violet could tell. “Fine, deal. Willy come over here!” As the five year old released  Willy he bounced up and hurried over to Minne’s side. She put an arm around him while the other kept the gun trained. 

T he girl was solid steel against Violet’s back. She could feel the tension coursing through her like electricity while the boy packed their things.  Finally, he hefted the two bags over and dropped them through the window; nodding at the girl, he followed them with a grunt.  Two seconds passed, the longest of Violet’s life since the police came.  Finally, she heard the little voice call back,

“Clem it’s clear, nothing but a monster or two.” _Clem huh,_ Violet thought, _not what I would’ve expected._ The girl maneuvered Violet to keep her between Minnie and the window. Finally, the knife left her throat and she heard it rasp its’ way into a sheath. “Count to twenty and don’t move a _fucking_ muscle.” That icy voice again, her hot breath tickling Violet’s hair. Violet gulped and nodded, _one, two, three..”_ A whisper on the wind, a thud and when Violet reached eighteen she turned, finding the room empty. 

Outside the drizzle strengthened to a downpour. 

“Fucking hell; who was that?” Minne holstered her gun, taking out their own stove and lighting it. Martin moved with Jess to close and relock the front door. Violet stood, retrieving her knife from under the desk, “I dunno but look at this,” She knelt, picking up a map that had fallen away beneath the sheets of the bed. 

Delicately she unfolded it, noting the age of the paper as she did. This map had seem some hard miles; she traced the path as Minnie looked over her shoulder. “God damn, they came out of the north.” Minnie raised her eyebrows, looking over the document. She nodded, pointing to a scuffed out town labeled ‘Town 3’: “They’d just come down past that old interstate bridge – Shit we could’ve just passed them in the road.” Violet shivered; she hadn’t actually seen the girl’s face, but she had no desire to meet the owner of that voice on the open road. _Jesus._

Minnie crouched, “We’ll stay here tonight. Nobody make a sound, there’s a goddamn horde out there. –  And close that fucking window will you?”

–

Clementine had been miserable before.  She’d been shot, stabbed, frozen,  and  beaten senseless.  Her and AJ were in perfect health, relatively; they had food, water, ammunition – if only they weren’t soaking wet.  Her arm was around his shoulders, pushing him forward, her other held the strap tight against her back, it’s cord biting into her through her leather jacket. 

They needed a place to stay.

She remembered the girl’s frightened eyes as she’d stared down the barrel of Clem’s gun. That was what weakness looked like. If it had been AJ under someone’s knife she would’ve taken the shot and damn the consequences. Never let someone use those you love against you – weakness will get them killed anyway. 

They’ d stumbled through the darkening wood, the sounds of walkers muffled by the rain.  Following the tracks south had led to a dead end, so they’d doubled back, darting west into the gloom of the deep woods.  Clem was looking for a tree tall enough that they could wait out the storm; wait out the utter blackness until daylight came once again. There were people in these woods, that much was obvious. Those had been their supplies and their hideaway and she’d been lucky to get away without a fire fight. 

Cursing under her breath she propelled AJ forward still, keeping pace easily with his short legs yet still feeling bone deep weariness in every muscle in her body.  The darkness obscured everything and she didn’t see the walker until it was nearly upon her. She swore, viciously and rammed knew knife in its’ eye socket, the gore washed away by the rain. They needed to stop, darkness was death and without the moonlight they had only AJ’s penlight to guide them. 

F inally Clem found a tree, it s’ branches soaring above them into the blackness of the night.  “Here AJ, climb. I’ll give you a boost.”  AJ nodded, his little face pale in the dim light.  She tossed him with a grunt onto the first branch, his nimble fingers finding a hold almost immediately.  Once he was situated she tossed the first bag up to him, its’ strap caught  by one hand.  She followed soon afterwards, their ascent into the tree steeped in rain and cold. 

A dozen feet up she snuggled as good as she could manage into the joint of two trunks.  Wrapping her arms and coat around AJ they curled up for warmth, soon AJ’s shallow breathing turning into the deeper breaths of sleep.  Clem stayed awake though, somebody had to keep watch.  She counted to three thousand and then started over.  Outside, the night was an ocean of rain and death all steeped together beneath a blanket of clouds. 

–

C lem was getting desperate. AJ noticed it in the harsh whisper of her voice and the tension throughout her body. She was like on of the wires strung up above the tree tops ‘cept stretched too far. 

He was worried she might break. 

Patrols of kids around his age were everywhere, their leaders around Clem’s age or a bit older.  They scoured the woods, calling for the “Girly with the curly hair” to come out. Clem took them through rivers and bushes, painting their clothing with m u d and losing their pursuers in pickets of thorns. 

They were crouched in a field of tall plants AJ didn’t know. The fronds tickled his legs and he had to step over the patches with brambles. Clem was muttering to herself; cursing the map and leaving it behind.  AJ wisely chose not to comment – when Clem got into one of her moods it didn’t do catch her attention,  _ she’d killed for less after all. _

C hem knelt him down, “They got to have a base somewhere in these woods, and a big, goddamn group too. At least thirty. We’ll make our way west until the marshes stop and hope to find somewhere to hold up.”  She smiled then, tracing the outline of his face wit h her cupped palm,

“Alright silly billy?” AJ hated that nickname but he grinned at her, loving the reaction he got and the softening around her eyes. She was all his and though he didn’t tell her this, _he’d_ die _for her._ He remembered her face since before he knew what faces where. Those early years of blood and pain, hunger and too little sleep. She was his world and although he didn’t know what it meant thinking of losing her made him ache inside.

D oggedly he trotted along in her wake, the plants growing in the field covering their movements as they trudged their way westwards. 

–

The swamp ended after what felt like forever, giving way to rolling fields of gold and brown.  There was precious little in the distance except a farmhouse that was so overrun it looked like a part of the scenery. Clem immediately ruled it out: “Hell no, the only thing worse than no cover is obvious cover.  They’re still looking for us kiddo, remember – when in doubt, hide. ” 

So onward they went, stopping to rest beneath an old willow tree for a lunch Clem said they deserved. AJ took a moment then, although he’d never admit it to Clem. He laid back in that sun-dappled grove and just stared into the clouds. He imagined a world without monsters; a world with only him and Clem. Together they’d wander the road forever, safe and happy. AJ smiled,  content to let that hope blossom in his chest. .

Clementine let him have his moment, in truth she savored these fragments where he could belatedly learn to be a kid.  She had a moment too where she smiled to herself, lost in thought. Then it passed like a cloud in front of the sun.  “ AJ get on up and open that can for me  we need to eat while we can. ”

They ate with about half the ferocity common to starving dogs, Clem only allowed for one can and gave one of her quarters to AJ. They’d need this food to last if they were going to make it somewhere this army of children didn’t control. Clementine repacked their things, paying extra attention not to forget anything else. _The map was one thing in the heat of the moment. Am I slipping?_ _Can AJ afford my mistakes?_ She shivered to herself, not entertaining the thought. 

_ There would be no weakness, there would be no hesitation. She would give her all for that kid and if it wasn’t enough she’d die with a smile, knowing she’d helped at least a little.  _

That’d been what Lee did for her after all.

–

Clem pushed morbid thoughts aside, focusing on the  here and now.  A series of sharp pops in the distance woke her up from her indulgent stupor. A shallow silence followed, predictably interrupted by another report. Then another and another. Whoever was shooting had the ammo and inclination to see the bloody business through to the end and Clem had no intentions on sticking around to congratulate the winner.. 

“AJ pack everything, we’ve rested enough.” The boy looked up,

“Who’s shooting Clem? Is it those kids?” 

“I dunno, but we’re leaving. Probably draw monsters like flies, _shit_ I knew we should’ve gone north.” She knew it had been the wise thing to do. Walkers froze in the cold but she remembered that _bitter_ , endless cold that sunk into the marrow of your very spirit. She’d hoped to spare AJ that at the very least if they were resigned to a life on the road. 

She then heard something that made her freeze in a rare moment of fear, of _hesitation._ Something that struck a primal cord within her and chilled the blood into something arctic in temperature. AJ heard it too, ”What’s that, Clem?” Her arm throbbed beneath the long sleeves of her jacket, she remembered teeth and rage, blood and pain.

“Those are dogs AJ.”


	5. ... and into the flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, I don't care if you think it sucks I'm just curious for people's opinions. Guests can comment

–

Violet was tired and hungover with fatigue. It had been days since the erstwhile encounter with the girl and the child and that confrontation had prompted Marlon to mobilize. _Everyone_ not immediately needed at Ericson got a spot in the patrol crews. No expense was spared even if only one in four had a firearm.

It was the beginning of the muddy season, the rain persisting into a rotter-laden mire with castoffs from more southerly mobs wandering their way north into Ericson’s zone of control.  Couple that from an ill-timed push from the raiders and you had the start of a fully fledged border  war with gangs of raiders, organized under the flag of the ‘Delta’.  Fire was exchanged, a couple kids were wounded but  nothing serious. 

So Violet found herself squatting over a damp riverbed, the canopy overhead dripping down to plop into the swamp water  below. To either side were  children as young as seven, their hands clasped around knives and spears. Violet herself held a rifle, an old, wooden piece without an optic but a magazine held together with duct tape and wire. 

D istantly Violet wondered how in hell the girl had disappeared so thoroughly.  The no-man’s land between the two forces was dozens of feet in some areas, the low groan of walkers replaced by sweating and cursing men in dark clothing.  Her second, a boy named Arthur  with hair as dirty brown as the riverbed blow whistled a challenge: rotter spotted. 

Instantly two of the littler members of Violet’s group closed on the creature, both with jagged, wooden spears.  One pinned it through its’ decaying chest cavity, shoving it up against a tree while the other accurate placed the  point of his weapon through it’s cavernous eye socket. A squelch, a dripping hiss of flesh and the rotter  fell bonelessly into the mud . 

Violet once more sank back and tried to warm some water on the little stove she carried around.  The flame lit but the warmth was sporadic in the gusts of wind and it wasn’t long before  she gave it up as a lost cause. “ This fucking sucks. ”  That was  Sophi e , the only other Elder in the group and officially  Violet’s second in command. “ You said it, ”  Violet leaned back against the trunk of the tree and groaned in limited satisfaction.  At least it was dry.

“When do we get to go back for dinner?” That was one of the youngest ones, the girl with the spear having walked over to join them. “Not yet,” Violet grunted out, “Marlon said he’d send Tennessee to tell us when we can pack it in for the day.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that most of the School’s ‘soldiers’ were just kids. _What a fucking life this is,_ Violet thought to herself. 

S he pulled an apple from her pack, “Here,” she tossed it underhand to the girl who’s name she’d already forgotten. “ Thanks Vi! ”  the toothy grin she got in return warmed Violet a little inside.  She wondered then, why they were doing all this.  Ericson was defending its’ own, that was at least certain but why did these Raiders keep trying to expand into their land?  They lost a few almost without exception almost every time they tried; what then could make such repeated efforts worth that grisly cost?

F uck if Violet knew.  She hated leadership and she hated big choices like this. It was part of the reason she let Marlon boss her around so much.  She really just wanted to be left alone but in this world you needed a group, survival alone just scared the hell out of her.  Part of her wished she could be like that girl with the voice like sheet iron.  Had the fucking balls to disappear into the wilderness and never be seen again –  let alone with a fucking kid in tow . 

M ore gunshots dragged her unceremoniously out of her reverie. Sophie’ s voice whispered in harsh fixation: “They’re coming again! Fuckin’ get ready!”  The report of multiple rifles sounded and the figures  of men wading their way in through the swamp soon become apparent.  Violet raised her rifle to her shoulder and lit off, the gray figures of the men taking cover with the exception of one who dropped, his cries soon echoing back to them. 

R eturn shots sounded, Violet keeping her head low while the report of Sophie’s pistol sounded twice.  The gloom of the forest surrounded her and Violet’s breath now came harsh and fast.  Blinking, she raised the rifle just in time to plug a Raider who had made it as far as the river’s edge right in the chest.  He blinked, dropping without a sound and one of the other children grabbed his gun from dying fingers. 

It became a mess of fire and counterfire. Blind luck and terrifying mania mingled into a mire of exhaustion and pain that consumed Violet’s mind entirely.  When she blinked finally and no more remaining  shots rang out she slumped back against her tree.  Miraculously, it seemed no one was hurt. 

A  rustle in the bushes behind them heralded Minn i e’s arrival: “Good, you’re all alright.  Tenn couldn’t make it, but Marlon thinks they’re running ”  She took a moment to rest, her hands on her knees and simply breath.  Sophie stood to greet her sister, a wry grin on her face, 

“Good of you to join us _sister,_ nice to know you weren’t kissing Louis behind the chapel or something.” Minnie grinned, 

“Fuck off Soph, you know you would if you could.” Violet chuckled and even one of the kids laughed aloud then. Violet almost missed the gunshot then, so fixated was she on Sophie’s face exploding in a spray of blood. Some sick sense within Violet thought _good shot, now she won’t be a walker_. The ragged cry of anguish that Minnie let out tore at Violet’s soul then everything exploded as raiders emerged from cover and tried to ping them down once again. 

V iolet screamed then, pinned down by a fusillade of rifle shots behind the rotting stump of a log. There seemed to be ever more of them and she was out of ammunition for her rifle.  Her bloodless fingers clenched the hilt of her knife as she waited for the  raiders to figure out that they were helpless and advance. 

–

S he hadn’t slept more than a couple hours in the past few days. Her legs ached and there was something wrong with one of her  legs where she’d landed wrong.  She’d killed one of the men’s dogs while AJ distracted it but it’d bitten her on one calf, the blood running down into her boot.  Clementine was terrified but she ran onward, teeth bared in a rictus smile that promised death to those  who stood in her way. 

A J ran a couple lengths in front of her, his pistol clutched in white-knuckled fingers. She knew he was scared but she was proud of the way he pushed himself for her.  She could hear the rasp of men’s lungs and their cat calls as they pursued them; the hellish bark of dogs closing steadily.  If she could just make it back to the swamps maybe she could lose them in the mire; or, better set them against the odd, child-warriors that made it their home.  Either way salvation was just a dozen heartbeats away.

T hey were close.

–

Violet heard the barking of dogs that wasn’t  Rosie and felt her blood run cold. Some kind of reinforcement from the west?  She tried to lift her head to look but the raiders had found cover facing them and laid down a hail of gunfire, their own ammunition holding up. 

T hey had never come like this before and Violet felt her blood run cold. She could hear the female raider over behind the hill egging her men onward, the psychotic lilt to her voice carrying over the  staccato drumbeat of gunfire.  Minnie was swearing and crying in equal measure, her own return fire holding for the moment.  They had to fall back _ but fall back where? Raiders were everywhere! _

Minnie’s gun clicked empty on her last mag.  _ Shit this is it!  _ Violet thought as she shared a terrified glance with the other girl. None of the rest of them had guns and Sophie was dead, her glassy eyes staring up from the mud. 

The hand gripping her knife was white knuckled in terror but still she prepared to meet them with every ounce of fury she could muster.  They stood, their guns leveled as they advanced and it seemed the end was right there, breathing down their necks. 

S uddenly she heard the sound of drumming footsteps to the right of the raiders.  She saw a figure leap the log jamming the river and let loose a hail of pistol shots, her fire downing raiders and scattering the rest in equal measure.  Violet was confused until she saw the little kid crouched in the ferns at the water’s edge –  _ it was the same girl! _

The girl’s slide locked empty and she tossed it aside, throwing herself at the men still standing after her assault.  Twin knives of gleaming silver planted them in the man’s chest as she dragged him to the ground, his fellows too stunned to move.  Violet caught the barest glimpse of the girl’s face then –  _ Clem’s face _ – her eyes white and her mouth a soundless scream of fury.  A gunshot from her right took another man in the chin, throwing him backwards into the mud. Violet looked for the source before to her surprise finding the little boy, his eyes squinted in concentration as he covered Clem’s advance. 

S he ducked behind a log while the third raider panicked and shot his mag into the empty bushes, none of his bullets finding purchase.  When his rifle clicked empty, Clem once more staggered towards him, as the man panicked and  falling backwards, tripping over a slippery rock.  The second blade carved a foot-long gash in his thigh as Clem  raked his face with her other blade.  The man fell, howling and his fellow turned and ran, his bravery clearly having failed. 

A final gunshot, sharper than the boy’s pistol rang out  and Clem collapsed around herself.  The woman’s voice from before, filled with a psychotic rage promised retribution; promised  crucifixions for the defenders of Ericson.  It was then that Marlon’s reinforcements  arrived , fresh with ammunition and the last of the school’s guns.  A withering salvo of gunfire drove off the raiders,  the one’s still living that was after the girl’s insane charge into the group of them. 

Violet heard Marlon’s own voice, it’s basso deeper than most of the other kids sound out over the din: “Dogs! They’ve got dogs coming from the west! Form line!”  The  remainder of kids without guns fell back behind those that did, and the reinforcements were met by a stiff wall of gunfire, their apparent lackluster bravery not standing up  to  sustained battle. The half-starved dogs were gunned down almost to a single one, their fur damp and leeching scarlet into the river-water. 

I t was over. Finally. The groans of injured men sounded out and mixed with the groans of incoming  rotters .  Marlon sounded a retreat back to Ericson, opting to  consolidate forces in the aftermath of their victory. “ Marlon! ”  Violet’s voice was shrill and almost unrecognizable to herself. “The girl and kid are over there! They saved us, Marlon; they saved all of us!”  Marlon glanced her way, then nodded, directing two of the older boys including Louis to help them. Slowly they approached upriver and their apparent savior. 

V iolet felt her blood go to ice. The girl was bleeding heavily from her side, trying to simultaneously drag herself forward and push the boy who had joined her into the thick foliage on the riverbank.  When she heard their approach, she turned and bared her teeth in a rictus grin of agony; raising knives to meet death and more.  Violet tried to say something but the words died in her throat.  Louis  looked about to say something when the girl hacked out, “Run AJ!” and threw herself towards Violet’s group. 

S he landed heavily on her side and began to drag herself towards them, some insane motivation lit like flame behind brown eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.  Violet raised her hands in supplication, 

“Woah, woah we’re not going to hurt you. You _saved_ us Clem, you _saved_ us. Let us help you, please.” 

Confusion warred with rage behind the girl’s eyes, apparently not expecting to hear her name from them. The boy, AJ, spoke then, 

“If you hurt her I’ll kill you, promise.” The solemnity in his words shocked Violet and once again she found herself at a loss for words. Louis thankfully took up the slack,

“Woah there buddy we don’t want to hurt anyone. These assholes were the ones who tried to hurt you and now they’re dead. It’s _over, it’s okay_ fella.” Somewhere in between his words the matter became irrelevant as the girl had passed out from exhaustion. Noticing the boy’s gun Louis raised his hands, “Buddy, AJ can we help your friend? Seriously man we just want to help.” AJ, the kid looked at them, wide eyes contemplating and serious. Finally he nodded, lowering the gun and running to Clem’s side. 

A s the moans of walkers grew louder, the odd group hustled their way back to Ericson’s walls, the limp body of the girl carried between them. 

T hey’d won the day.

\--


	6. A respite from the darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introductions..

–

Clementine floated on a sea of agony and spite. A serpent formed from the faces of her victims, their laughing features spiraling away into the darkness sank its’ fangs into her side. She felt the pain and the helplessness of failure sink into her.

There was Jane, her twisted, rotten neck bulging from the hangman’s noose as she laughed, her tongue fat and bloodied. Kenny, his eyes sad as the bullet sapped his life away opened his mouth to ask her _why_ but all that poured forth was a sea of blood upon which she was carried away down into the darkness.

“How y’doin, sweet pea?” Although she knew the voice she didn’t rise to greet him – she was too tired by far. Every day the weariness grew just a little, something that ate a little of her heart until nothing but darkness remained.

“Hey Lee.” The fatigue in her voice surprised even her; Lee, himself sighed wearily. She couldn’t see him but she felt hands clasp her around her shoulders, the pain there shrinking back somewhat. “You’ve gone and hurt yourself something bad, Clementine. I thought I taught you better than that.”

She could hear the smile in his words but to return it felt suddenly beyond her; even though this was what she’d dreamt of for nigh on six and a half years. “Fuck Lee, where do I even begin. Christ you never even met AJ, your own _grandchild._ ”

“Damn girl,” Lee’s voice was honeyed rum sipped beneath a defunct electrical generator in the middle of a blizzard. It was the steady purr of an electrical heater while outside the wind raged its’ impotent fury against the walls of her shelter. It was a home long since lost to her, a sullen remnant of the child she’d not been since she took her first life all those years back.

“You know I always tried to do best by you. But the world is a cruel place sweet pea; even before everything went and broke itself apart. You do the best you can and if that’s all you could manage then who and what can say otherwise?”

“Fuck Lee, I…” She felt flush then, like taking a step into a Georgia summer once again. “I’m a _monster_ Lee, I’ve killed men – _so many men_ , just to protect AJ. Just to make sure he at least gets the _choice_ to live or not. Is that so much to ask?”

Lee sighed, the world weary tone of the damned. “’Course not Clem, you know I was never a perfect father – God knows, you saw some things you definitely shouldn't on my watch. In the end though, even I’ll admit I was blinded by my desire for the world to be a better place sometimes. This place…” he took a pause for some ethereal breath,

“This place eats good people alive, Clem. Always has. Lord knows the Apocalypse ain’t gonna change that. If you want a future for your boy then you gotta fight for it, do _whatever is required_ in order to secure that future. Because the alternative, being another dead innocent on some body pile doesn’t help no one but the crows.”

He propped her chin up lightly on his rough hand, raising her gaze to meet his warm, dark eyes. “I raised you better than that, didn’t I?” She coughed through the thick, ugly emotion that threatened to subsume her,

“...Yeah Lee, you did right by me, even if I turned out worse for it. Even if I had to kill over and _over_ again because of it, I can’t say in your place I wouldn’t have done the same thing.” Now she felt the phantom tears begin to come for the first time in years,

“It’s not like the world needs any more dead children.”

–

AJ knelt in a corner and watched Clementine bleed onto the floor. Her blood formed little droplets that spattered into a pool the size of his hand and only kept growing. The girl, Ruby, cursed and dropped the bullet into a tray, the clatter it made shaking him from his reveree.

She was good, at least from what AJ knew which was close to nothing. Even now, the bandages and treatment was slowing the trickle of blood to the faintest smear of red on an (almost) clear bandage. AJ blinked, a shock of tears threatening to fall free.

They’d taken his ammo, on the pretense that nobody in Ericson was armed, but it was nice they allowed him to keep the revolver. He’d never seen so many people in one place before and he felt a tightening in his chest he was surprised to identify as fear.

“ _People will betray you. If you have a choice, stay the hell away from others and if you have to be in a room with them, keep your back against a wall.”_ Clem’s rules trickled back, their impact like drops of blood against his fevered, tired mind. His back _was_ to a wall, it was Clem who was breaking the rules, why wasn’t she awake, _why didn’t she wake up?_

AJ from the moment he could talk had been schooled on walkers and what to do if Clem was bitten. Drilled into his skull that all he could even _think_ of doing involved a piece of hot lead and the quick pull of a trigger. Now though, as Clementine lay bleeding and unresponsive he wrapped his arms around his legs and simply rocked there. Nobody had taught him about this. Nobody had told him about the uncertainty.

AJ was alone.

–

Hours, maybe years passed before Clementine’s eyes. She lived a waking dream, every second trickling into place and every memory and echo that bounced around behind her eyes. Soon enough though, the whirl of colors and shapes solidified into the familiar, short-haired features of Jane; her deft hands working over a wooden sculpture with her knife.

Clem couldn’t tell what it was yet but the chips of wood soon flew at a fevered pace, soon taking on a disturbing likeness to herself. Jane looked up, “It was never your fault. You know that I hope?”

Clementine gulped, “What, that you killed yourself? What the fuck was I supposed to think, Jane. No, what else _could_ I think?” The familiar color of rage suffused her vision and Clementine embraced it, the comfort of anger a balm that had seen her through many nights. “ What the _fuck_ kind of person hangs themselves and leaves an 11 year old on her own with a _fucking_ baby to care for?”

Jane’s eyes had a flat, corpse-like quality to them: “You answered your own question: Someone who’s sure they’re leaving the kid in good hands; _better_ hands than their own. It’s not like you weren’t better off anyway, after all. Look at you!” Here she spread her hands wide, throwing the disturbing, wooden sculpture of Clementine to bounce against the wall of the small cabin in which they sat.

“You took that kid and you made him your own. _I_ couldn’t have done that, I would’ve gotten both of you killed. Fuck – I made you kill Kenny for christsake, me killing myself was just a formality, God would’ve struck me down before too long.”

Jane’s rage petered out as if doused with water. She sighed, “I know it hurt, but life fucking sucks kid and you sure got used to it rather quickly. You’re hard as fucking granite now, I don’t have shit on you. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Wispy fragments of subconscious exploded into multi-faceted light and Clementine was lost in the rush. A darkness more vast than time, itself engulfed her and the last thing she heard was AJ’s pleading voice, begging her to come back to him, then the rushing waters of death closed over her and she knew no more.

–----

Part Two: The oncoming storm.

Violet had never seen someone so beaten to shit. Sure, life in the apocalypse was no spa day; they had broken bones, internal bleeding, not to mention the walkers. Yet, the scars, old bullet wounds, burns and fuck knows what else on the girl’s body made even her wince.

It’d been five days since the fight and the girl was still out cold. They’d dribbled what soup they could make down her throat along with water but it was starting to worry her. She was no nursemaid to be sure but she’d taken a special interest in this case because if she was honest, watching the little kid mope around made her hellishly sad.

So she did her best to clean the girl up and keep the kid from driving himself up the wall with worry. It was the kind thing to do.

“AJ, help me lift her head I need to give her some more water.” The kid obeyed but he had this nervous disposition about him. This weird almost pathological distrust of everyone except her. It drove Violet a little crazy. They lifted Clementine’s head to tilt her throat back slightly just enough to dribble the smallest thimble of water down her throat. The unconscious girl coughed, groaned but didn’t wake up.

Violet sighed, “I’m sorry AJ; here why don’t you come sit with Tenn in the courtyard? He’s on supply duty today, maybe you could help with that.” The kid looked at her with those huge eyes then simply nodded once. Violet shrugged, walking off and hoping the kid would follow her.

\---

She’d return, throughout the day. Just to look at the girl who’d done so much. She supposed it was an unhealthy fixation, something Louis would call ‘unladylike’ but _fuck_ Louis, this was her free-time wasn’t it?

She tried to imagine what someone who’d been on the road as long as Clementine was like and came up short. Everyone had a group, that was just the way things were. If you lost your group, you died – simple as that. To completely say fuck that and strike out on your own – for _years_ at a time, well, Violet found it admirable, if a bit frightening.

Violet grunted as she stood to stand, her hand on the doorknob when she heard Clem give a wracking cough then groan in pain. Not an uncommon occurrence for the past week but she turned and was surprised to see the girl blinking to herself and looking about her in confusion. Then, her eyes landed on Violet and like a shutter locking into place her eyes went flat and her mouth pursed in a thin line.

”Where is AJ?” No inflection, no question for herself, just pure, reactive instinct harnessed into a killing edge.

“He’s alright, Clem just sit tight I’ll go get him.” Violet absolutely didn’t flee the room; it was one thing to care for the girl when she was just unconscious, dead weight but having those eyes directed at her – well, it was something else entirely.

–

AJ entered the room and immediately threw himself into Clementine’s arms, her smile then lighting up the room like dawn. “They didn’t hurt you, kiddo? Didn’t make you do anything? Tell me everything that happened.” So he began a rambling recitation of the past eight days, culminating with a cool, new friend he’d made and how these people weren’t all that bad, after all.

Clementine narrowed her eyes and this, looking pointedly at Violet who was sitting in a corner of the room. “You have my map.” It wasn’t a question.

Violet gulped, “Yeah we found it in the train depot after… after you left. I’ll have it brought to you, you’re not our prisoners, not even a little.” Clementine nodded, perfunctorily. She ran her hand through AJ’s hair as if checking for damage, then grasped him by the neck and looked into his eyes:

  
“Truth, AJ; do I need to kill anybody?” AJ was quiet for a little then shook his head, staring into her eyes, “No, Clem, they’re good people, nothing like you said they’d be.” Clem swatted him, gently.

“The danger isn’t the obviously bad ones, silly billy; it’s the ones you can’t tell that _seem_ good. Everybody lies, kiddo, even your new friend Tenn. Don’t you fucking trust them, not now. We’re leaving as soon as I can stand.”

Violet coughed, “Um, about that Clementine. Well, after the firefight a fuckload of rotters showed up and we’re staying low until they either move on or we kill enough to make it viable to leave again.” She shrugged, wincing at the expression Clementine leveled at her, “So while you’re not _our_ prisoner, you’re kinda stuck her for the time being.”

Clementine winced then cursed in as vile a manner as possible, eliciting a giggled from AJ. “Fine. What’s your name then? I should at least know who to ask about food. You fuckers owe me _that_ much, after all.

Violet let out a grin, which quickly died at the flat expression in Clementine’s gaze, “I’m Violet, I’ll get you anything you can keep down. You saved my life and I don’t forget shit like that, not once.”

Clementine nodded and that was that.

–


	7. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things can't be healed

Clementine nodded, seemingly lost in her thoughts for a moment, “You don’t happen to have my coffee tin, do you?” Her voice softened a millimeter, “I left it back at the train depot the last time we met. You may remember, I held a gun to your head.”

Violet seized on this fractional softening and smiled, “Yeah, I’ve got it. Actually, I fucking love coffee, I hadn't seen anything like it in so long I..” Clementine simply looked at her, then, the blond's words fading into smoke.

“Yeah, I like coffee too.” She gritted her teeth and tried to get out of bed then whitened and froze, face a blank slate as white as chalk.

Violet swore, “Fuck, no Clem you’re not to get up yet, we don’t have an actual doctor, just a student who used to hang out with the nurse for god’s sake. You’re lucky to be alive, don’t fucking push it.”

Clementine’s face twisted then flattened again with repressed emotion, “Well you’ll know where I’ll be in that case.” With that she slumped back into the bed that was serving as her cot, face like pale ashes against the dark wood of the infirmary.

–

Her dreams were fevered and restless. Specters of her past and old blood threatened her from every path and Clementine felt the midnight walls closing in around her _._ The old group leader Lily, from before Clementine was so broken by this world taunted her invisibly from the shadows;

“You can _never_ be happy, Clementine. They’re always going to steal from you, always going to _hurt_ you and those you care for. You’ve got to strike first! Let them know not to fuck with you!”

Clementine tried to respond, tried to tell Lily that she _agreed_ with her. This world will betray you the first time you let it; better to never let yourself fall for the grand lie of satisfaction and happiness. Yet her mouth felt like it was sewn shut. Slowly she realized she was elsewhere and the memories rose up and subsumed her.

The Motor Inn, her first taste of the hell this life had in store for those who chose to fight against entropy and death. Lee was out scavenging, the drive that bound him to the group inexorable. She drew chalk drawings with Duck, whatever silliness they’d had between them forgotten. Though Clementine was slightly hungry, it wasn’t painful and she didn’t let it distract her. This was a good place filled with good people.

“Duck, honey, come sit with your father and I.” Katyja was the round, motherly woman whom Clem felt an immense kinship towards. She was the heart of their group and Clementine had latched onto that with a fevered intensity. The awkward, teenager Ben stood watch up above, the rifle hanging lackadaisically from one hand.

Clem, realizing her playmate was taken away from her moved and began drawing in another location, her thoughts of Lee and her old family. So wrapped up in her business was she that she didn’t notice Kenny take over Ben’s watchpost, leaving the gangly youth to wander the compound listlessly; there being no-one his age, he had to be bored so Clem felt a bit bad for him.

“Ben! You can come draw with me if you feel like it.” Ben looked around like someone should be telling him no but shrugged and knelt by Clementine. They squatted there, drawing meaningless shit on the cracked, time-worn asphalt. Suddenly Clem heard what sounded like a bird call from back behind the stairway, the fenced in area with all the dumpsters. “What’s that?!”

Ben stood as well, “I dunno, should we check it out?” Clem smiled, grabbing his hand, “You’ll protect me right?” Ben gulped, smiling nervously, “Yeah, I guess..”

They walked over behind the main section of rooms, the old rooms locked tight against the fall air. They both blinked as the cawing alerted them to the crow, squatting on top of the fence staring down at them. It flapped its’ wings and cawed again in displeasure before taking to the air and leaving nothing but an overarching sense of wounded pride in its’ wake. “Phew,” Clementine smiled., looking at Ben, “At least we know it’s not a monster, right?”

Ben looked at her, silent for a moment. “Clementine.. I’m your friend right?” Clementine was wounded, “Of _course_ you are, Ben! You’re nice!” She was almost injured by the assumption that she _wouldn’t_ be someone’s friend.

“Well, Clementine,” Ben looked around, “Friends help each other out, right?”

“Yeah…” Clementine was more and more confused. Her grasp of friendship was ironclad by a child’s definition. You helped your friends; that was simply the way of things. It’s what Lee would done.

“Well, Clementine I’ve got a problem, see--” Ben looked slightly uncomfortable, “It’s like an itch I can’t scratch, see and--” He put his hand on Clementine’s back, gently rubbing her shoulder in way that made her uncomfortable, “Clementine will you--”

\--

The mirage of memory shattered and Clementine woke, almost shouting to herself in the darkness. Fuck, she hadn’t thought about that in a long time. She had a foul taste in her mouth and quickly took a sip of water to quell it. _Ben that scum fuck, I’m glad Lee killed him._ _Christ if he’d survived, I would’ve skinned his balls and fed them to him._ It’s one thing to be eight years old in the apocalypse; walkers, monsters as she’d called them were something she could understand. But to have a _friend_ do _that_ to her?

She slammed her fist into the wall next to her cot, a cloud of plaster dust loosed and falling onto her face, making her cough violently. “Fuck!--” She struggled to breathe and almost cried right then and there. “Fuck this fucking world, why won’t it just _die!_ ” These last words were practically whispered as AJ snored gently in the cot above her. He’d really taken to life at Ericson and although she didn’t approve, it was nice to see him happy for once, instead of merely compliant.

Clem levered herself out of bed, the stabbing pain in her side at least tolerable for the time being. The moon was bright overhead and the school was silent. It was clear that only the night watch was awake but they were outside the walls so all was silent.

Picking her way through the room in the near-complete dark; Clementine lit her lighter, the thin flame wavering slightly before brightening to illuminate the door which she opened. She walked with a confidence spent from long nights in the dark as there was nothing frightening about the dark, since you could hide as easily as the walkers as they from you.

Clementine picked her way steadily through the school, the last of sleep draining from her to leave only a nervous tension and the desire to move. _No way I’m making it back to sleep tonight; not after a fucking dream like that_.

The night was almost moonless, as the silver sliver above her barely illuminated the treetops in the murky darkness of the swamp. Yawning, she made her way out and across the main lawn, avoiding the slumbering form of one of the middle aged kids at Ericson who’d fallen asleep after drinking too much rum. Above her, the dark outline of the school was a blackness against the star drenched sky, the towers leaning out like arms to envelop her. She shivered, she still didn’t like it here and that guy, Marlon who ran the place made her want to ram a knife into his throat.

Entering the old, partially collapsed tower she began to climb. Relying on the experience of many nights prior to this and the thin light from a torch she’d grabbed. About halfway up, the wall of the tower fell away, revealing a view that stretched for miles of the swamp before her. Lost in the sight, she didn’t notice the low conversation coming from above her until it was too late.

“Oh! Clementine! Sorry, didn’t know you came up here.” It was the overly friendly girl Violet, and the other one, the sad one Minnie who’d lost a sister. The latter was weeping gently and Violet was comforting her, this uncomfortable scene giving Clementine the massive urge to simply turn around and climb down. “Shit, I’ll just go then.”

“No, fuck that you already climbed; I’ll just leave.” That was the Minnie girl, who seemed a year or two older than Clem. Wiping her face, she passed Clementine and began making her way down the tower. Clementine watched her go, completely at odds with the awkwardness of the moment. “I’m really not good at any of this.”

Violet laughed, “Fuck, I don’t blame you. It was hard losing Sophie, for all of us, but especially her.”

Clementine snorted, then sat back on her haunches, the night stretching out once again before her. “Fuck. I didn’t think any of you knew about it up here. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised, it was your school.”  
  


“Yeah..” Violet kicked out her legs and sat beside Clementine, putting her arms on the wooden spar that demarcated the open air from the safe, wooden ceiling they stood upon. They stood in a comfortable silence for a moment, neither really wanting to say anything. Finally, Violet broke the silence, “Think you’ll stay? Marlon says the walkers are just about ready to move on.”

Clem snorted, “Fuck no. Groups only get you killed, this one is no exception. Fuck Marlon and fuck this little Lord of the Flies situation you’ve got going on.”

Violet blinked in confusion, “Lord of the Flies?”

“It’s a book about an island run by children. It doesn’t end well.” Clem said.

“I mean it has lasted us this long! Surely there’s something different in that!” Violet was getting defensive now, although she wasn’t sure why. Clementine had done everything she’d wished she could do and maybe it was that weakness that she was rationalizing to the other girl.

Clem’s tone was dark, the slightest tinge of mockery coloring it, “I’ve seen it before, inevitably someone will get killed and the group changes. You can’t fucking trust other people, not ever.” Absentmindedly she drew one of her knives and began whittling a chunk of wood she broke off the railing. Woodchips flaked away, falling away into the darkness like little pieces of herself that she cut away.

Violet thought a moment, “That’s gotta be lonely.” Clem snorted and looked away, her back to Violet as she gazed off into the darkness. “Life sucks and then you die. That’s nothing new and now we have walkers – no, rotters to worry about. Nothing ever changes, nothing ever gets better. Get used to it.” With that she stood, aiming to descend into the darkness and perhaps sit at the edge of the school grounds and stand a watch.

Violet stood too, “Wait, Clem – ” when the girl stood to go, Violet grabbed the upper part of her bicep to hold her back, “Just, wait!” Clementine turned, elbow flaring out to strike Violet in the temple but she held herself at bay, stopping to breathe deeply for a second.

“What.” the acid way she said it made gooseflesh appear on Violet’s neck, but she mustered her courage. “I know you think you need to take AJ and just vanish into the wilderness; that groups aren’t safe and there’s nothing for you here. I _get_ that. But there’s other reasons to stay, other reasons to not just do it by yourself.”

Clementine was unimpressed, she raised one of her eyebrows beneath her curly, black hair; “What reasons?” Violet smiled shyly, some insane impulse taking hold of her higher reasoning,

“These.” With that she drew Clementine forward, gingerly until her lips brushed the other girl’s. She felt Clementine freeze up, felt her mouth part in surprise and the soft warmth as their breath met in between. Violet pulled away, smiling faintly, her heart thrumming a drumbeat upon her ribcage like a million rotters were on her heels.

Her hand still rested faintly on the other girl’s waist.

Clementine’s mind was reeling, her mind in a million places at once, “I..” she stammered, “Fuck! No, I can’t, God I..” she stopped and breathed, controlling her emotions until everything slid from her face like oil on water. “I like you, Violet but I can’t fucking stay. Someone’s going to get hurt and it fucking _can’t_ be AJ, I’m sorry.”

With that she disappeared down the ladder and into the bowels of the school, the midnight sky overhead the only witness.

It was a long time before Violet, herself descended. Long after the first rays of the sun flirted with the horizon and the birds began their worship of the coming dawn.

Predictably she was a yawning mess for the rest of the day.

–


	8. Alone in a sea of death

The  walkers drawn in from the firefight saturated the woods of Ericson. Crowds upon crowds of them had scattered throughout their hunting perimeter and Marlon had said that removing them was a priority.  Groups of youngers, not yet suited for combat duties made noise and drew as many as they could in directions away from Ericson, their work long and sometimes dangerous. The rest, Clementine included had opted for the attack. They couldn’t spend too long outside the wall for fear of drawing entire crowds of the walkers and becoming surrounded. 

P redictably one kid didn’t listen and his screams were mercifully short as those things go.

Clementine drove one of her knives through the skull of the walker, the creature’s body falling limply to the dirt.  She’d killed dozens in the past hour and worked with the efficiency of a robot.  Other kids had taken to staring at her while she worked, the efficiency with which she killed quickly spreading among the camp of  hunters gathered outside the wall.  Personally, her mind was elsewhere, hating every second she and AJ weren’t putting miles between them and this little fledgling civilization. 

Anything less was inviting disaster. 

She’d shut down in response to the presence of so many people; long instincts taking over and her emotions deadening to all around her except AJ. She’d existed for so long with her sole focus being on his survival that she didn’t think she could do anything different now. Somethings come too late in life and for Clementine, a life of hardship on the road had hardened her. 

So she killed and killed. In increasingly long shifts outside the wall she killed.  She barely ate, and only rested when the healing wound in her side forced her to. She slept briefly and in spurts, long having developed a talent to grab a few minutes of sleep here and there to supplement for days spent awake. She heard distantly the other kids talking about her, the awe and fear in equal parts indifferent to her.  They didn’t know like she did, they didn’t know that this respite was only temporary.

The hard times were coming.

Her first blade stuck in the ear canal of a Walker, the tip jamming itself somewhere inside the rotting expanse of its ruptured brain. Cursing silently, she drew her other knife and hacked at the other walker that approached from behind her. The blade bit deep into its’ skull, the spray of blood mercifully limited because of its age.  She turned, yanking the other blade free and cleaning it on the wallker’s clothing, dry and already choked with dust from the road.

S he heard the call, distantly that a crowd too big to handle with their current force was approaching.  Despite this she approached another group, swiftly bringing down two walkers with a thrust and a snap of one’s knee.  The third tried to rake its hands across her back but she spun, flitting out from its deadly embrace with a quickness born in the cataclysm of the road. With a rough movement she brought that one down too, its dusty sigh escaping atrophied lungs. 

Clementine stayed like this, the deadly dance and riposte of flirting so casually with death. It suppressed her thoughts for a time, that deadly darkness of apathy kept at bay with an offering of blood.  Her blood sang, and she felt her heartbeat in her ears, the thrum of her life a rhythm to which she killed.  She quite liked killing, she liked the way..

“Clementine!” A shout. Why? Someone disturbing her? Maybe she should kill them? The call again, “Clementine!” the voice sounding familiar. That Violet girl, the one who had kissed her. What did she want?

“There’s too many, Clementine, _come on!_ ” Looking up, she cursed as a group of twenty or more approached. She’d already killed half that number but looking around found the other hunters had pulled back to the edge of the wall, already going inside. Clem cursed again, seeing red for an instant before the song of death faded and she breathed more evenly. Retreating, she wordlessly joined the other girl in pulling the gate shut in the face of the infected clawing at those inside. 

Another day, another hundred infected.  She wondered if AJ had had fun.

–

Violet stared at the retreating form of the girl, the lithe way in which she walked that of some predator. Violet shivered, the way she’d killed.. spoke of long experience and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know how much.  She’d be lying to herself if she said that wasn’t hot as fuck but she was equal parts scared.  The look in the girl’s eyes hadn’t been that of a friend or companion; no, something in there was broken and Violet wasn’t sure what to do.

She knew what they said about old dogs too far gone. 

–

Marlon also watched the girl retreat back into the school, his thoughts speculative. She was dangerous, clearly, and that warranted watching. However, she’d gotten along well enough with everyone so far and he doubted they’d have any problems consider the boy seemed to be all she cared about.  Brody snuggled beneath his arm, squirming her way into his lap in what he suspected might be jealousy.  He kissed the top of her head, his other hand rested gently on her thigh, intertwined with her fingers. 

T he walkers were a problem, sure, but they had enough food to safely get rid of them eventually, the isolation of Ericson playing in their favor. It was the raiders he was worried about, that last attack having been held by the skin of their collective teeth. He still didn’t know what they wanted and their ammunition situation wasn’t what it had been. They needed supply patrols and they needed them now. Otherwise, when the scruffy, flee-bitten men made their return with that psycho bitch at the front, they’d find Ericson an easily conquered place filled with scared children with sticks. 

He wouldn’t let that happen.

“Violet!” the blond girl jumped, looking around guiltily before coming to stand with him.

“What’s up, boss?” He grinned inwardly, the girl was obviously smitten; “We need ammo. Badly. You’re leading a supply run north of here past that old barricade on the highway. Take Minerva, Louis and that new girl, Clem. Find as much as you can before the raiders come back. Gotcha?” 

She gulped, “Yeah, Marlon, no problem I’ll get to it.”  She wandered away and Marlon itched his neck, the hair stuck to it.  Yeah, this would be good. 

–

A J was coloring the main building in a run-down room with moss growing on the walls. They’d made an attempt at clearing it away, but the place still felt more like being in the middle of the woods than a building.  As per Clementine’s instructions his bag was lying next to him and within was his revolver, it’s chambers loaded with ammo.  However at this moment all this was forgotten as he talked with Tenn, his new and most likely best friend (apart from Clementine) whom he’d spent much of the last three weeks with. 

I t was odd to be around other people but AJ found it surprisingly fun. He remembered Clementine’s lessons of course; the seriousness of her nature outlining them in fire against the blur of his early childhood memories.  Still though, he liked it at Ericson, the people here were fun even if a bunch were wild and gross at times. He didn’t have to feel afraid all the time and it really contributed to the sense that this was their new home –despite what Clem told him whenever she saw him: 

“This isn’t permanent, AJ, I want you ready to run as soon as things start to go bad. Remember, these people can and will hurt you if they get the chance.”

T he more AJ heard this however, the more he came to doubt and he felt guilty about it. Clementine had kept him alive and he owned her everything – yet he liked it here and every time he saw Clem she looked worse for it. AJ didn’t understand.

There was a muted clap of a door opening and hitting the wall, followed by the rhythmic thud of heavy boots upon the wooden floor.  AJ turned in time to see Clem walk rigidly into the room, her shoulders hunched and her eyes filled with that look they got when she knew walkers were near.  When she saw him, it seemed like everything melted away. Suddenly she was herself again and the smile that lit up her face made AJ feel good all over. 

He liked it when Clem was happy.

“Hey buddy, you okay?” When he nodded, she flopped onto the floor beside him, her arms snaking neatly around him as he squirmed and laughed. 

“Ah, I missed you AJ. How’s it been going with you?” AJ babbled stories about what he and Tenn had done – they’d colored, explored one of the lesser used wings of the school and found a bird with a broken wing. He told her how Tenn had been sad when he put it down, but Clem nodded, saying, “It’s always good to get in the practice of reducing suffering. Gotta be ready when the time comes. I’m proud of you, buddy.” 

O nce again however, as he watched her watching him, AJ noticed the sacks under he eyes and the weary look in her eyes. Clem looked haggard and worn down, even more than she’d been on the road. It was confusing and made AJ sad for all he ever really wanted was he and Clem to be happy, together. Everything else was secondary in his mind. 

He was about to begin telling her about another of his projects when the blond girl, Violet walked in.  Clementine stiffened, like there was a walker in the room and AJ grew even more confused. Violet’s eyes found Clem and AJ and her mouth flattened, then she said, “Hey Clem, AJ; Clem can I speak with you for a second? It’s important.” 

C lementine nodded, warily, stepping away from AJ for a moment. The conversation only took about thirty seconds, Clem’s face sinking and sinking before finally being replaced by that flat look AJ recognized.  When she returned, her gaze was downcast, “AJ, buddy, Marlon wants me to go on one of the supply missions. You know how much we need bullets, right?  Anyway I’ll probably be gone for a few days and I  _ need  _ you to be careful. ”  His eyes were glued on hers and she grasped his shoulders, pressing home the point. When he nodded she continued: “AJ, no matter what anyone says I need you keeping your gun nearby. If anything happens, I want you to run. Don’t want on anyone, don’t listen to anyone; just run.  You know how to get back to that house we stayed in? ” AJ nodded, gulping, 

she sighed, “Buddy, I know it’s hard but I need you to go there if anything happens.  _ Anything. _ Got it?” 

AJ was scared but resolute so he nodded, “Yeah Clem, I got it. Could I bring Tenn if he’s with me?”  Clem’s face warped in something he didn’t recognize before she relented, “Yeah buddy, but only if he doesn’t slow you down. If something happens, I need you to put yourself first, can you do that for me?”  With one final nod, AJ agreed, although it didn’t help the nervous feeling he got in his stomach. 

S omething odd was going on  and if Clem was worried, so was AJ. Silently he promised to himself that he’d keep his eyes open and play less. 

He had to be strong for her.

\--


	9. Dust and Walkers aplenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Building

Relief.

She breathed the air of the road with something distantly related to happiness. Surrounding her were the desiccated strands that formed the old time; that hazy, nothingness that hung over all who lived before the Rising.

Memories swam to and fro, left to fester beneath the silence that surrounded the group as they trudged alongside the unending trail of broken-down hulks that only distantly resembled cars. Violet was taking point, the sling of her rifle bouncing on her narrow shoulders as she marched. Behind her was one of the Littles, a thin child with eyes that made Clementine want to slice a line across his throat while he slept. Fifty meters back Minnie, that gangly girl Violet seemed friends with and another Little kept up the rear guard.

Nobody said a word for miles.

The echoes of the old world washed over the small group, the void from a lack of camaraderie subsumed with a sense of melancholy and loss; the inevitable subservience to time, the destroyer. Cars whose hollow interiors still held captive the squirming driver who’d perished within. Hulking trucks, the yawning blackness of their trailers as dark as pitch to their eyes. The bullet casings, the blood stains, the ruined skeletons and greasy stains all seemed to expand to surround them, like a chasm opening up before their eyes.

Clem didn’t know why but she suddenly felt empty of all purpose, like there was something futile about this whole venture into the remains of civilization. Although she breathed easy away from all those people, the all encompassing nothingness of the remains of the old world without the purpose AJ had given her filled her with nothing more than a sense of aimless sorrow. So she relearned old lessons, embraced those early years both at the behest of a group and by herself, a saccharine child with too many miles of bitter road in her soul.

Step by step, mile by mile as they approached the city Clem closed in, restricting her thoughts to a single point: survival. These people that accompanied her were less than human; they were simply another means to be brought low by the meaningless cruelty of the monsters that haunted her wakening hours. Maybe Violet was different but so had been Lee and so had so many others…

Her thoughts evaporated as the lead girl with the blond hair held up one hand: they had arrived. The city lay spread out before them, the mouth of a valley opening up wide to engulf them. It was bigger than anything Clem would’ve gone near if AJ had been with her but her instructions were clear: they needed ammo and badly enough to risk the supply run into the den of the beast. There’d been no sign of other groups coming from this area and Clem and AJ had been the only people to come from the North in at least a year so they were, for the moment safe enough.

That only left the walkers.

–

Violet crept forward, the slight crunching of gravel the only clue to the others at her back. The parking lot was a wasteland of the shattered remains of cars and corpses picked clean by the birds. There’d been a fight here; a big one if the remains and bullet casings were any indication. They’d all blown to the edge of the concrete, gathering in little piles of false gold against clusters of dry grass.

The concrete had faded and cracked; little shoots of green emerging everywhere, a forest of plants overtaking what once had been the kingdom of man. Violet shook her head, the distant calling of birds the only sound except the wind in this dismal town. The department store, centered at the edge of the town loomed like some vast beast out of myth. Empty doors, battered open by a truck that rested halfway through them were black as pitch and even out here in the overbearing sunlight, Violet shivered slightly.

“Should we go in?” the voice belonged to Clarence, one of the littles that had accompanied them. Minnie spoke from behind Violet, her voice low and pitched to be barely audible:

“No, this is a grocery store. Only department stores that sold guns were Walmart I think. We’ll have to head deeper in.” Violet nodded,

“Agreed then. I think there’s something a lot deeper in. Hopefully this place isn’t picked clean, I think Adrian said it was hit really hard early on.”

Adrian had been one of the Elders who’d lived in his families’ attic while the city burned around him. He didn’t say much but when he did deign to talk it was generally useful. Violet’s gaze kept being drawn to those gaping portals into the blackened depths of the store. She didn’t want to go in there if they had any other choice; lord knew what waited inside.

“Right,” Violet cleared her throat then continued, “We’ll head in along this road here,” the map she held was older than all of them there; the ink worn and faded with water in some places. Still, the maze-like patterns of roads and landmarks were evident in this odd window into the past.

“This should take us to the city center or somewhere in that general area.” she pointed to a spot that had completely worn through, whatever information it had held previously lost to time. “We go low, slow and make damn sure we’re not pissing off whatever is waiting for us in here. Let this fucking town _stay_ dead, you get me?”

Minnie smiled at that, shouldering her pack and stretching legs that were just long enough for Violet to notice. The littles were quiet but attentive; they knew their place. Clem, the only wildcard of the bunch wasn’t paying them any visible attention, scanning the edges of the parking lot where wild grasses and trees rolled into a veritable forest of green.

“Clem, you good? Low and quiet, right?” Violet tried to keep the apprehension from her voice; she wasn’t sure what to think of that girl anymore. Her moods seemed to oscillate between cold fury tinged with brutally, calculated violence and a tender, almost naive sincerity that shone through deep cracks in the core of her being. Violet was equal parts attracted and terrified of what she might do and the blank tension that had existed between them ever since she’d kissed her were making things worse.

Clem looked back, meeting Violet’s gaze with eyes as expressionless as flint. “Quiet is good. Quiet will help you stay alive.” _Jesus_ Violet thought, _she’s not all there is she?_

Minnie seemed to agree as she said then, voice tinged with false humor: “Don’t go flaking out on us then, new girl. I don’t want to have to explain to Marlon why we had to leave you behind.”

Violet flinched, waiting for some of that discomfort to go away but Clem simply smiled thinly and replied with equally insincere calm, “No worries there, Minerva; I can handle myself.”

Violet tried to assert her authority then, trying to inject some vein of sharpness into her voice, “Both of you no bullshit now. Let’s try and make it at least halfway before dark. I want a nice place to sleep without any Rotters stumbling in, so that means a residential area if possible. Keep your eyes open, yeah?”

Minnie gave a jaunty salute, taking a sip from her water before hoisting her bag on one shoulder, ready to set off. Clementine just followed the other girl with her eyes for a moment before doing the same.

The group set off as the sun trickled its way down the horizon faster than Violet would’ve liked. Around them the dead city slumbered, seemingly at peace, as if waiting to be reborn.

\--

Clarence, the little, quick boy with the darting eyes roamed ahead, ducking around concrete barriers and fences; peering into windows and through doors with the caution of experience. Likewise, Wendy the other little kept far behind the other three Elders, making sure nothing followed them without them knowing.

They’d encountered relatively few walkers, what few were on the streets dispatched quickly and without sound. Clementine knew it wouldn’t last however, these cities always held walkers in such numbers as should warrant giving them a wide berth whenever possible.

She preoccupied herself because nobody, no matter how acutely they paid attention can maintain concentration forever. So identified escape routes, scoped out fences she could hop and escape; most importantly however she always knew the way out. Without fail she always kept the burning streak that led her back firmly centered in her mind lest she get inadvertently trapped due to negligence.

So it was with extreme reluctance that Clementine didn’t leave the little group to their fate as Clarence hissed in surprise and toppled backwards from the open doorway he’d been peering into. A steady stream of walkers emerged, the first tripping over a shattered, upraised plank of wood jutting from the porch of the house in particular most likely saving the boy’s life. A relatively modern affair, it resembled many of its neighbors in that it had a symmetrical array of windows burnished with a comforting shade of blue paint. There were two floors and the domicile looked like it could comfortably fit a family of four.

This conclusion seemed more and more at odds with the sheer number of Walkers now streaming from the single doorway like ants from a nest; their antennae raised in furious salute. The moan that accompanies anything larger than a small group of Walkers began to accumulate, forming an almost irrationally tangible presence on the air, a bad smell that made Clementine want to spit.

Clarence staggered backwards on all fours, clawing his way backwards across stone stairs and cracked, moss-covered sidewalks. Violet froze for a second and Clem mentally cursed, turning to and fro looking for escape routes and oncoming hordes of the undead. Seeing open streets to all sides however calmed the demon screaming for her to leave them to their fate and flee. Grimly then, Clementine drew her blades, the meticulously sharpened, gleaming metal a comfort to her. Minnie stepped up to her side and Clem glanced her way before nodding, once. In this at least they were of one purpose.

As one, the two girls bore down on the undead and steel resolve met violate, irascibly yearning flesh.

–

Violet screamed within her mind and beat her mental fists against the walls of her terror. _She was a leader, why was she not more like Clementine or Minerva?_ She beat a palm against the flat of her forehead, tearing at blond hair in an agony of indecision. Finally, while the littles continued their flight backwards, Violet drew her own blade, a paltry, four inches of steel meager in comparison to the other girls and stepped into the battle line.

Walkers were still seeping from the small building like a suppurating wound in the fabric of the city, itself. They must’ve been packed in there wall to wall for some inexplicable reason and comically she imagined how awkward it must’ve looked to Clarence sticking his head in there. Truly, some form of deity must be laughing at her now, a scared little girl facing off against what her mother would’ve called the ‘Legions of Hell.’ Oh how times changed.

As one the girls stepped forward and the killing began.

At first they made good headway, killing the first two that stepped up to them with an ease of the lucky and experienced, however, soon the trickle of rotters turned into a torrent, and they were forced to spread out and give ground. Soon the littles had mustered their courage and were harassing the flanks of the undead swarm; seeking to turn one or two away from the three girls, who even now still killed in numbers that belied their age.

Violet grew cocky and overextended, thrusting her knife which bit into flesh which gripped it and stole it from her grasp with a sucking of flesh. The line broken, the dead seeped forward; forcing the others to split up and give more ground. Violet gasped and fell backwards, throwing herself clear of the swarm and turning her body to fall into a mad dash backwards, leaving the other two girls on their own against at least a half-dozen more rotters.

Clem cursed silently and tried to take a half-step backwards before nearly turning her heel on the body of a walker they’d already killed. Minnie darted in and threaded her knife into the temple of the walker bearing down on Clem with a dancer’s grace Clem couldn’t hope to match. Wiping congealed blood from one of her blades, Clem flung herself back into the dance; both of her blades a silver, dervish of destruction that took two walkers at once, their lifeless eyes staring accusingly back as they fell to the ground. The walking dead couldn’t show fear as per their nature. Yet at that moment, with their number so clearly and skillfully decimated, the remainder surely would have, had they been able. With deft skill, the other two girls felled the remaining three and silence once again reigned on the avenue in the unnamed city of dust and memories.

Violet just knelt there and breathed in sweet lungfuls of air for a span, letting the last of the adrenaline make its way out of her system. She’d known they were going to fight sometime during the mission, it was inevitable. However the desperate dichotomy between life and death between a rotter’s teeth had dealt her surety a blow more true than a legion of taunting, merciless children. She hung her head as the rush of the moment faded and the certainty that she’d failed settled into her marrow.

She wasn’t good enough.

–

Clementine knelt, wiping the gore from her blades on the jacket of one of the walkers. It’s glassy eyes looked almost white in the waning light of the evening sun, toothy grin settling on features stretched tight as all but the skin seemed to have evaporated from this creature. Overalls and a black t-shirt marked him as a worker of some kind and she distantly wondered if he was somebodies’ jovial uncle; some loving relative stored here to keep them out of the sun.

The littles as Violet had called them were searching pockets, rolling walkers over to access anything of value that might be trapped underneath. Minnie inside the house they’d all come from and Violet, Violet was kneeling as if all the hope in the world had faded, slumped over herself in a miserable puddle upon the concrete.

Clementine was equal parts disgusted and intrigued, as well as an odd feeling she hadn’t expected: protectiveness. She questioned that pulsating, nodule of humanity with the clinical gaze of a professional: No, it wasn’t very strong and no, it wasn’t anywhere near as strong as her bond with AJ, but it was _real._ Clementine _felt_ for this girl despite it all and the tearing, agony of anxiety in her guts told her that despite it all, she couldn’t simply slip out in the night and leave this group to die. At least if it meant Violet would die with them; the rest she’d happily leave for the birds.

“Fuck,” Clementine muttered to herself, the wind keeping it from the others. As the sun did its best to beat a hasty retreat behind the rooftops Clementine spoke again, louder this time:

  
“We’ve got to get off the street. Find somewhere to hole up for the night.”

Minnie, having returned from the house, wiping soiled hands on her dirty, ill-fitting jeans nodded concurrence, “I agree, although not in this neighborhood. We’ve made too much noise already and we’ll need to relocate.” She grinned at Violet who was picking herself up off the ground and shouldering her pack, “Plus, boss, I think I spotted a rich looking house about five minutes back and I know you want to bunk in style.”

Clarence, the other little giggled, and it was a mad sort of giggle. Clementine grimaced, looking anywhere but at those weird, twitching eyes. Instead of replying she simply started walking, grunting in assent when Violet stepped up alongside and followed half a pace behind.

–


	10. A fish out of water; a bird fallen from the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment between two damaged souls in a city of the dead and gone.

The house was a three-story, old and monied affair; with old shingling, window framing and sturdy, oaken doors that looked like they’d already stopped a horde. The interior was surprisingly bereft of any of the devastation that normally accompanied some, unfortunate’s erstwhile hiding place gone badly. Everything was neatly put away and there were even some meager supplies in the pantry. Violet, as soon as she’d eyed the place looked to the swiftly departing, westbound sun and declared this house their home for the night. Thus the lengthy process of securing it came underway.

Clementine hung curtains, wedged wooden dowels under doors and generally tried to employ every one of her accumulated mannerisms for the purpose of keeping their little group alive. To their credit, the littles who usually grated every single one of Clementine’s nerves helped in their way; checking the upper floors and finding them walker-free. It was a relief then, to close the doors for the night and firmly believe that they were secure. 

Clementine colonized a room in the upstairs down the hall from the closest member of the group and tried to organize her thoughts: She’d been aching since dawn of that day seemingly without end and it was wearing the last, fraying strands of her nerves away. Distantly she wondered if she’d eaten something that’d gone bad or if this was what the Bonnie woman had dubbed, “Women’s problems.” Either way, she conjured a small fire with the help of a lighter, some old books and a fireplace whose flu was rusted open. The dancing flames relieved her and she relished in laying her aching back muscles on the relative comfort of her pack and simply letting her mind wander.

Somewhere outside, the mournful call of a bird she couldn’t name was all that disturbed the night save the sound of the wind howling through chimneys and between alleyways. The city lay dead around them; a blanket of calm laid across them like snow. Clementine had long since stopped following what the date was but she believed by the temperature and weather patterns that it was nearing October. Lazy tufts of dust and invisible phantoms danced in the air above her outstretched fingers, their journey to the ceiling interrupted by a draft from the open window. They spun and twirled in merriment and Clementine wished she could join in their heathen abandonment of responsibility and the ardor of life.

She her the knock of tentative fingers on wood; the rustle of old sneakers outside a clue to the intruder to her moment of peace. “Yes?” she called, trying to keep the chill from that deep, dark inside her from her voice.

“It’s Violet, can I come in?”

Clementine sighed, “I’m not stopping you,” she didn’t lift a finger as the door creaked open, disturbing the eddies and skyward journeys of the dust bunnies above her head. This room had belonged to a child and though it was small, the obviously love that had gone into decorating it and the pictures hanging everywhere (she’d turned them face down,) made her ache for both AJ and a past she didn’t know she’d missed. 

Violet slid in with the consistency of a shadow and edged the door shut with her foot. 

“I brought some food -- I thought you’d want to eat something, the little’s have the first watch anyway and Minnie is with them.” 

Clementine grunted, then winced as she raised her head enough to glance at Violet before sitting up fully and tossing another stick onto the fire. Though small, the warmth that made its way through the grate was of a kind with what she imagined heaven might be like.

Violet seemed nervous about approaching her but apparently made up her mind as she sank to the floor (right!) next to Clementine with a weary sigh. She took a blanket and several cans of food from her bag and spread them out, being careful not to brush Clementine’s spread eagle legs in the doing so. 

“How am I doing?” Violet laughed then, “This leadership bullshit; I always hated it. Marlon’s way of someone he can trust to get it right is keeping all those who actually * _ want _ * to lead close to home. That way he can keep an eye on him and he knows I don’t give a fuck.”

She sighed, “Besides, I hate being in charge of people. The thought of losing someone makes me sad as shit.” She glanced at Clementine although Clem tried to ignore it. 

“I know you’re beyond all this shit; you were on your own for, like _ forever _ . I could never do that. I’ve been with Ericson for the duration.” 

Clementine didn’t say a word, simply content to watch the shadows from the flames dance on old walls, the plaster peeling and what little wallpaper remained as faded as Clem felt. 

Violet clearly didn’t like the silence, “God, I’m sure you’re just sick of me, I’m sorry--” she laughed, the frayed edges of hysteria creeping in, “I sure as fuck can’t talk to Minnie -- she’d just want sex, like I’m some fucking toy to her. Hell, I’m not even sure you’re sane!” Violet hiccuped and the whiskey bottle fell to the floor with a clunk. 

Clementine sighed then;  _ what was it with people and their emotions letting themselves become all tangled like one of AJ’s knots.  _ She sat up fully then, shedding the blanket she’d been using as a pillow and draping it over the other girl, picking up the whiskey and taking a generous swig, herself. She’d had a hell of a history with alcohol as a younger girl and that legacy still sung in her veins sometimes, the yearning for the fiery liquid like a sixth sense. 

“Just shut up--” she coughed, after a swallow of the whiskey; the comfortable warmth it leant her sliding its way down her core. She leaned in and pressed numb lips against the other girl’s mouth; the parting of her lips and the sharp intake of breath making Clem smile inwardly. 

She held it for one long, eternal moment then cut it off; taking the can-opener she kept from the depths of her bag. “Now help me get something to eat ready; no telling when we’ll get a night as peaceful as this again.” 

\--

Violet worked in silence, nimble fingers working the mechanism and the scent of peaches mingled with that of woodsmoke. She’d thought Clem inside or worse; the eccentricity giving way to an almost fearful trepidation that grew and grew. Yet what she had just done felt somehow more than sane. That assertiveness spoke to something deeper within the other girl and Violet wasn’t sure what to think. 

“How long have you and AJ been together then?” Violet wasn’t one for smalltalk, but she hated silence more. 

“I’ve known him since he was born.” Clementine said, bluntly.

“Shit so he’s..yours?” Violet hadn’t thought that was possible. Clementine wasn’t that much older than she was and she was barely old enough for that infernal twisting in her guts each month. 

Clem laughed, “Fuck no; I knew his parents. They just died and the rest of the group fucked off or died too, so that left me.”

“Jesus, so that’s what, like six years on your own?” Violet tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

“On and off. Sometimes I spent time in cities but mainly by myself, yes. You may notice I don’t much like other people.” This last held the wry, edge of humor and Violet laughed,

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear I think.” Clem didn’t respond, scooping peaches from the can into a chipped, plastic bowl she’d taken out of her bag. The bent, metal spoon followed and she began wolfing down her food with a ravenous hunger that surprised Violet. 

“Shit if you were hungry you should’ve said something; we could’ve stopped earlier.”

Clementine grunted, “We were busy, it’s no problem. Just take advantage of any and all breaks; it’s the way you do it out here, in the wildlands.” She took a small sip of the whiskey then, taking care not to take in too much. At Violet’s quizzical glance Clementine’s face went sour; “I have a history with alcohol. I don’t have the luxury of getting drunk; especially tonight when we could be attacked at any time. Feel free yourself to get plastered but I wouldn’t recommend it. Waking up with a hangover with walkers beating down the door isn’t something I’d recommend.”

Violet laughed at that but pointedly stoppered the whiskey and pulled out her canteen instead. She already felt like she was floating on a sea of warm water, her gaze swimming a little too much for her liking. She hiccupped again, 

“Why do you do that, actually?” at Clementine’s glance she continued, “call them walkers, I mean. Everybody else calls them rotters, you and AJ are the only ones who say walkers, why is that?” 

Clem held her silence for a moment, the fire crackling off to one side. When Violet was convinced she wouldn’t respond, Clem said “My .. Father called them walkers. I never bothered asking why and now I can’t. Anyway seems as good as anything these days, it’s not like they’re running or whatever.”

“Jesus, there’s a thought.” Violet laughed, “Thank fuck for small mercies I guess.” 

The pair ate in silence for a beat; the wind outside and the fire in the grate the only noise. Clementine finished her peaches and set the can aside. She stretched, resembling a cat to Violet’s eyes before standing and throwing herself into the child’s bed, its sunbleached, racecar sheets sending a pang of longing through Violet’s gut. Clem removed a book from her bag and began to thumb through the pages, the meager light from the fire barely enough to read by. 

Outside, the night was as dark as pitch, little needlepoints of light above the herald of the stars coming out. Violet continued to stare at the diminishing flames, wrapped in the other girl’s blanket trying to discern meaning from the glowing coals. Somewhere else in the house she heard a thump and cursed slightly, hoping the others would keep it down and not attract attention. There was no cry of alarm and no moan of walkers so she settled back into the semi-meditative rest. 

Violet felt arms encircle her from behind, the other girl’s low voice sounding close to her ear: “I think I’ll take my blanket back now, it’s cold as fuck outside.” Violet immediately shivered all over; gooseflesh making its way over every square inch of her skin. Instead of grabbing the blanket however as she’d expected, Clem gentle guided her to her feet, warm arms around her shoulders guiding her over beneath the child’s comforter. The other girl slid in beside her, letting their warmth mingle beneath the stale, dusty sheets. Violet squirmed a bit against the other girl’s legs before settling, surprised into silence. 

“I can’t love you.” The words tickled the edge of Violet’s neck, setting the skin of her neck afire once again. “I swore off it, never again. You’ll just get either me or AJ killed and I can’t afford that. Not  _ ever _ again. I do like you though, never think I don’t.” Clementine hummed a moment before continuing: 

“I just can’t  _ deal _ with people. You’re all evil to my eyes; you’re all worse than the fucking  _ walkers! _ ” This last was with a certain venom. Violet squirmed around so that they were face to face, curled up beneath several blankets to keep the early bite of winter at bay. 

“We’re not all the same..” Violet said.

Clementines stared at her for a split second before breaking away, “I can’t take the fucking chance.” Violet reached under the covers to rest one of her hands on Clementine’s waist, right above the bony protrusion of her waist. Clementine virtually hissed, throwing off the blankets before sitting back to breath hard for a second before sighing:

“No, just no. I like you but fuck me if you’re too much. I think I’ll take the next watch tonight, I’ll go give the rest of them the night off.” Violet looked at the bags underneath her eyes and wondered if this was the first night she’d forgone sleep then sighed,

“I’m sorry.”

The door closing behind Clem’s back was the only sound in reply.

\--

The night had descended in truth around her and Clementine’s weary eyes peered out from the attic window into a night filled with the unknown. The others had long since gone to bed, the darkness outside equal parts midnight and morning. She was working her knife along a spar of wood again, old habits taking over. Chipped, fragments of the wooden post trailed to the floor like sparks from a fire; her blade both the tinder and the flame. 

She’d not heard a sound in hours, the rhythm of her breathing becoming tranquil and trance-like in its repetitive measure. She wondered then, if anything lived within this city, if it  _ ever  _ had. What if the world before was a dream; what faint memories she still had of the time  _ Before _ were growing increasingly distant and shrouded in fog. What if this was the only life they’d ever known yet they convinced themselves that something better, had  _ indeed _ existed. the cruel lie of hope beyond the immediate suffering of today their only dream of a better life. 

She’d always had AJ on the road when thoughts like this took hold but he was out of her reach and far away so she floundered in the midnight seas of her own making while her companions slumbered. 

She heard a thumping from below and cursed under her breath, both for the interruption and for the potential to draw walkers to their hideaway. Standing on legs of rickety, thin wood she stretched the kinks and climbed the ladder down to the second floor; the wood barely creaking underneath her weight. The house settled around her, the faintest light coming in through the windows from the cloudless, night sky barely enough to see by. 

The thump sounded again and she at least relished that this was, in fact real. Perhaps some midnight-bourne horror lurked in the pitch black below the stairs, waiting to sweep her away. It sounded thrice, and this time she pinpointed it as coming from the room she’d vacated several hours previously. Creeping on tiptoes, having left her boots above her in the attic, she padded on socks with more holes than not to the edge of the doorway and peeked through the crack next to the hinges. 

Two forms writhed in the bed, one tall, the other far shorter; though their forms blended together amidst the blackness. Someone was whispering though she could not tell whom. There was a faint cry, then another and the ministrations slackened for a moment before continuing at a more frenzied pace. 

Clementine felt oddly intrusive yet intrigued at this naked display of humanity. Observing people at a distance was something of a hobby; picked up from hours hiding from other survivors on the road with AJ. This was wrong and yet she couldn’t seem to take her eyes away. 

She could barely see anything anyway, what was the harm in looking? More gasps accompanied the first and Clementine watched on, the ache below her belt not entirely unpleasant anymore. One of the figures shifted, the protrusion of bare flesh into the air an almost comical sight. It was at times like this that Clementine considered herself something distinctly  _ apart _ from the rest of humanity. Something had broken, out there on the road, amidst the dead and rotting world. Unlike her wooden sculptures however, that something could not be molded back into shape; some things were immutably shattered. 

Hell, she’d  _ eaten _ human flesh on one occasion; and she almost felt that burning, nodule of humanity at times, lingering, preventing her from being lost to the ruminations of the road. She liked to imagine that little piece of Lee’s friend was keeping her sane; like the flame of a small fire keeping the darkness of the night at bay. 

There was a small cry and then another. The smaller figure writhed and squirmed; clearing having reached that point of no return that Clementine had only, ever heard about. The cry grew louder, then cut off as the other figure rose to (apparently) kiss her, though all of this was speculatory at best due to the low light. By the time the figures gathered themselves and rose off the bed, Clementine had long since faded into shadow; padded feet making their way back, above the now silent house and back to her eternal watch.

The night waited and Clementine embraced it with arms wide open.


	11. Revelation, Rapture, Reconcilliation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clem realizes something about herself.

“Shit Clemetine’s gone.”

The morning was gray and chilly, the fuzzy haze of alcohol clouding Violet’s head. 

  
“What do you mean gone, where would she go?” Violet yawned, her mouth tasting of sawdust and cheap whiskey. Minnie who had risen before her was leaning her head in the doorway, already dressed for the road.

  
“Whatdoya’ think, sleepy; she’s flat out gone, neither of the littles have seen her since dawn when she woke them for the watch.”

_ Shit _ Violet thought.  _ Some leader I’ve turned out to be. We’re already down a man _ .

“Fuck. Let’s hope she knows where we’re going, let’s get packed and ready. I forgot to ask, did you bring any coffee? My head fucking  _ aches _ .”

Minnie had the audacity to wink at Violet and she blushed deeply, feeling equal parts disgusted with herself and used.  _ She wondered if Clem had noticed and felt a pang in her stomach at the memory of the other girl and her pale, almost wrath-like silhouette against the glow of the firelight. _ Violet steeled herself, splashing a handful of water across her face and trying to comb her slightly greasy hair. Minnie blew her a kiss, then left her to get ready. Outside, the clouds threatened rain and worse, while the air around them hung thick with chill. 

Something was coming and Violet wasn’t sure she liked it.

\--

The earliest rays of light trickled down through crumbling chimneys and trees gone feral. It was late enough in the year that a sheen of frost crept its way across the overgrown and cracked bricks that formed the sidewalk; slowly receding before the diminished sunlight. Clementine crept as a shadow does between gardens and through abandoned houses, doors still open for the occupants that would never return.

She did not know why but a feeling had compelled her. After waking the littles for the watch she had melted into the gloom with the intention of scouting the surrounding neighborhoods before anyone awoke. Minutes had cascaded around her and her thoughts in an embarrassing tangent had kept returning to those shadowy figures of the night before. 

_ What do I care what she does?  _ Clem thought,  _ It’s not as if we’ve made any promises to each other. _

The silent corners of her brain did not help her in this regard and the tension within her grumbling stomach grew to a crescendo of anxiety. Something was wrong and it had nothing to do with the girls and their little tryst. It was almost like a humming in the air; some resonance that only she had access to, setting the hair on her arms standing up and making her grind her teeth.

It almost sounded like moans.

She spotted a clock tower that rose above the forested mire of empty, two-story houses. Hoping she wasn’t right, she crept over to the door, testing it with a gentle push while constantly keeping her head on a swivel for walkers. 

The door didn’t budge and Clem was forced to make a circle of the building; tugging at windows, trying a back door and trying to make her way inside without breaking a window and disturbing this neighborhood of the dead. 

The second to last window she tried, a dusty, fake stained glass type burst up when she applied pressure, thumping into the top of the sill. Immediately she crouched, peering around the neighborhood and the open street still choked with abandoned cars for walkers. The silence dragged on and its melody infused her, stifling all noise in the quiet desperation of bird song. 

Satisfied that nothing had heard her, Clem turned to the window. What was inside appeared to be a kitchen, although the light from the barely risen sun did nothing to illuminate the foggy gloom within. The other windows were enshrouded with dirt and she had no hope of seeing once inside so she removed the flashlight she’d carefully horded, inserting the battery she always carried wrapped in oilcloth. 

The artificial, white light was so astonishing to her after naught but firelight and the rays of the sun that she almost dropped it. Cupping that godly fire of a dead world in her hands, she lowered herself inside the window, leaving her backpack outside in case she had to fight her way clear. 

The inside was clearly the kitchen of a church. Paintings of Clem’s mother’s god filled the area, the old wooden paneling covered in moss and other greenery. She crept on feet of velvet, barely making an impression on the thick layers of dust and pollen that had accumulated here. Creeping through the hallway and into the living room felt like entering a world of the dead. An undisturbed skeleton lay on a couch absolutely thick with greenery, any flesh having long since faded or been eaten. Clem could see the rotted remains of clothing still clinging to its gaunt frame and she thought she recognized the white collar; though she wasn’t sure what it meant.

Her luck held out and the thick, wooden door that led into the church proper was unlocked and only made a little noise as she opened it. The banks of wooden pews were filled with the actual dead, and Clem found herself wondering what had happened here. One of the stained glass windows was broken overhead and the thin light of dawn seeped through, illuminating a patch of floor where grass was starting to grow amidst the dust and grime.

Shivering, Clem crept upwards still; ascending through the stillness and into the rafters above and the steeple. A trapdoor barred her way and she gave it a shove, nearly toppling herself down the cramped stairwell she’d just climbed before the thick, wooden door slammed open with more noise than she’d intended.

The view from the top was magnificent and irrationally, Clem wished that AJ was here. They’d eat their breakfast, watching the sun rise and just sit like little birds over this city of the dead. The melancholy that stole over here was all encompassing and, overcome, Clem simply sat there, hands wrapped around her knees and rocked for a heartbeat. 

She ached to run all the way back to Ericson; to steal away with AJ in the night and never look back. Her heart panged and she realized suddenly that that wasn’t an option any more. Maybe it had been but the thought of abandoning Violet opened like an abyss ready to swallow her.  _ What was happening to her? _ Clem thought desperately,  _ Never get attached; people will only betray you, so  _ **_why the fuck couldn’t she stop thinking about her?_ ** Her mind reeled for a second before the two, competing strands of thought united in her mind with a snap:

She’d have to save them both whether they wanted it or not. Ericson was a lie and would end in fire and blood and she’d be there when it happened. She’d save them both and disappear into the North, never to be seen again.

Her purpose revealed to her in a dazzling display of epiphany, Clem stood in one motion, sweeping her eyes across the horizon of chimneys and greenery. It was then that she saw the reason for her unease. 

It was then that she realized they were all dead unless she warned the group right this minute. 


End file.
